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rjJT'ttur’* UBTJSrr 



























Millionaire of Yesterday 


By 

E. Phillips Oppenheim 

hor of “A Maker of History,” “The Master Mummer,” 
“A Prince of Sinners,” “Mysterious Mr. Sabin,” 
“Anna the Adventuress,” etc. 


Illustrated from drawings by J. W. Ferguson Kennedy 


Boston 

Little, Brown, and Company 

1906 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 


APR 4 1906 



('■'N \o^ 


Copyright , 1906, 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 


All rights reserved 


Published March, 1906 


THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. 



















































» 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


CONTENTS 


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Chapter I. 

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7 

Chapter II. 

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Chapter III. . 

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27 

Chapter IY. 

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Chapter Y. 

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41 

Chapter YI. 

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48 

Chapter YII. . 

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60 

Chapter VIII. 

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67 

Chapter IX. 

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74 

Chapter X. 

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80 

Chapter XI. . 

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90 

Chapter XII. 

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96 

Chapter XIII. 

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Chapter XIY. 

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Chapter XV. . 

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116 

Chapter XVI. 

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127 

Chapter XVII. 

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133 

Chapter XVIII. 

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142 

Chapter XIX. 

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148 

Chapter XX. 


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W 








CONTENTS 


yi 

FAOB 

Chapter XXL • • • • • 163 

Chapter XXII. • • . • • 172 

Chapter XXIII. . • . . . 179 

Chapter XXIY. . . , , . 184 

Chapter XXY. . . , , . 192 

Chapter XXYI.199 

Chapter XXVII. . • . . • 203 

Chapter XXYIII.209 

Chapter XXIX. ..... 215 
Chapter XXX. ..... 223 

Chapter XXXI. ..... 230 

Chapter XXXII. .... 238 

Chapter XXXIII. ..... 247 

Chapter XXXIV. .... 256 

Chapter XXXV. ..... 264 

Chapter XXXVI. .... 272 

Chapter XXXVII. ..... 277 

Chapter XXXVIII. .... 285 

Chapter XXXIX. ..... 293 

Chapter XL. ..... 299 

Chapter XLI. ..... 305 

Chapter XLII. ..... 310 










A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


CHAPTER I 

“ THIILTH,” grunted Trent—“ ugh ! I tell you what it 
is, my venerable friend—I have seen some dirty 
cabins in the west of Ireland and some vile holes in 
East London. I’ve been in some places which I can’t 
think of even now without feeling sick. I’m not a 
particular chap, wasn’t brought up to it—no, nor 
squeamish either, but this is a bit thicker than any¬ 
thing I’ve ever knocked up against. If Francis doesn’t 
hurry we'll have to chuck it! We shall never stand it 
out, Monty! ” 

The older man, gaunt, blear-eyed, ragged, turned 
over on his side. His appearance was little short of 
repulsive. His voice when he spoke was, curiously 
enough, the voice of a gentleman, thick and a trifle 
rough though it sounded. 

“ My young friend,” he said, “ I agree with you—in 
effect—most heartily. The place is filthy, the sur- 

7 




8 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 

roundings are repulsive, not to add degrading. The 
society is—er—not congenial—I allude of course to 
our hosts—and the attentions of these unwashed, and 
I am afraid I must say unclothed, ladies of dusky com¬ 
plexion is to say the least of it embarrassing.” 

“ Dusky complexion ! ” Trent interrupted scornfully, 
“ they’re coal black ! ” 

Monty nodded his head with solemn emphasis. 

“ I will go so far as to admit that you are right,” he 
acknowledged. “ They are as black as sin ! But, my 
friend Trent, I want you to consider this: If the 
nature of our surroundings is offensive to you, think 
what it must be to me. I may, I presume, between 
ourselves, allude to you as one of the people. Befine- 
ment and luxury have never come in your way, far 
less have they become indispensable to you. You 
were, I believe, educated at a Board School, I was at 
Eton. Afterwards you were apprenticed to a harness- 
maker, I—but no matter! Let us summarise the 
situation.” 

“ If that means cutting it short, for Heaven’s sake 
do so,” Trent grumbled. '‘You’ll talk yourself into a 
fever if you don’t mind. Let’s know what you’re 
driving at.” 

“ Talking,” the elder man remarked with a slight 
shrug of his shoulders, “ will never have a prejudicial 
effect upon my health. To men of your—pardon me— 
scanty education the expression of ideas in speech is 
doubtless a labour. To me, on the other hand, it is at 
once a pleasure and a relief. What I was about to 
observe is this: I belong by birth to what are called, 
I believe, the classes, you to the masses. I have 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


9 


inherited instincts which have been refined and culti¬ 
vated, perhaps over-cultivated by breeding and associa¬ 
tions—you are troubled with nothing of the sort. 
Therefore if these surroundings, this discomfort, not 
to mention the appalling overtures of our lady friends, 
are distressing to you, why, consider how much more 
so they must be to me ! ” 

Trent smiled very faintly, but he said nothing. 

He was sitting cross-legged with his back against 
one of the poles which supported the open hut, with 
his eyes fixed upon the cloud of mist hanging over a 
distant swamp. A great yellow moon had stolen over 
the low range of stony hills—the mist was curling 
away in little wreaths of gold. Trent was watching 
it, but if you had asked him he would have told you 
that he was wondering when the alligators came out 
to feed, and how near the village they ventured. 
Looking at his hard, square face and keen, black 
eyes no one would surely have credited him with 
any less material thoughts. 

“Furthermore,” the man whom Trent had addressed 
as Monty continued, “ there arises the question of 
danger and physical suitability to the situation. 
Contrast our two cases, my dear young friend. I am 
twenty-five years older than you, I have a weak heart, 
a ridiculous muscle, and the stamina of a rabbit. My 
fighting days are over. I can shoot straight, but 
shooting would only serve us here until our cartridges 
were gone—when the rush came a child could knock 
me over. You, on the contrary, have the constitution 
of an ox, the muscles of a bull, and the wind of an 
ostrich. You are, if you will pardon my saying so, a 


10 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


magnificent specimen of the animal man. In the 
event of trouble you would not hesitate to admit that 
your chances of escape would be at least double mine.” 

Trent lit a match under pretence of lighting his pipe 
—in reality because only a few feet away he had seen 
a pair of bright eyes gleaming at them through a low 
shrub. A little native boy scuttled away—as black as 
night, woolly-headed, and shiny; he had crept up 
unknown to look with fearful eyes upon the wonderful 
white strangers. Trent threw a lump of earth at him 
and laughed as he dodged it. 

“Well, go ahead, Monty,” he said. “Let’s hear 
what you’re driving at. What a gab you’ve got to be 
sure ! ” 

Monty waved his hand—a magnificent and silencing 
* gesture. 

“I have alluded to these matters,” he continued, 
“ merely in order to show you that the greater share of 
danger and discomfort in this expedition falls to my 
lot. Having reminded you of this, Trent, I refer to 
the concluding sentence of your last speech. The 
words indicated, as I understood them, some doubt of 
our ability to see this thing through.” 

He paused, peering over to where Trent was sitting 
with grim, immovable face, listening with little show 
of interest. He drew a long, deep breath and moved 
over nearer to the doorway. His manner was suddenly 
changed. 

“ Scarlett Trent,” he cried, “ Scarlett Trent, listen 
to me ! You are young and I am old ! To you this 
may be one adventure amongst many—it is my last. 
I’ve craved for such a chance as this ever since I set 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


11 


foot in this cursed land. It’s come late enough, too 
late almost for me, but I’m going through with it while 
there’s breath in my body. Swear to me now that you 
will not back out! Do you hear, Trent ? Swear l ” 

Trent looked curiously at his companion, vastly 
interested in this sudden outburst, in the firmness of 
his tone and the tightening of the weak mouth. After 
all, then, the old chap had some grit in him. To Trent, 
who had known him for years as a broken-down 
hanger-on of the settlement at Buckomari, a drunkard, 
gambler, a creature to all appearance hopelessly gone 
under, this look and this almost passionate appeal 
were like a revelation. He stretched out his great 
hand and patted his companion on the back—a pro¬ 
ceeding which obviously caused him much discom¬ 
fort. 

“ Bravo, old cockie ! ” he said. “ Didn’t imagine 
you’d got the grit. You know I’m not the chap to be 
let down easy. We’ll go through with it, then, and take 
all chances ! It’s my game right along. Every copper 
I’ve got went to pay the bearers here and to buy the 
kickshaws and rum for old What’s-his-name, and I’m 
not anxious to start again as a pauper. We’ll stay 
here till we get our concessions, or till they bury us, 
then ! It’s a go ! ” . 

Monty—no one at Buckomari had ever known of 
any other name for him—stretched out a long hand, 
with delicate tapering fingers, and let it rest for a 
moment gingerly in the thick, brown palm of his 
companion. Then he glanced stealthily over his 
shoulder and his eyes gleamed. 

“ I think, if you will allow me, Trent, I will just 


12 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


moisten my lips—no more—with some of that ex¬ 
cellent brandy.” 

Trent caught his arm and held it firmly. 

“No, you don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “ That’s 
the last bottle, and we’ve got the journey back. We’ll 
keep that, in case of fever.” 

A struggle went on in the face of the man whose hot 
breath fell upon Trent’s cheek. It was the usual thing 
—the disappointment of the baffled drunkard—a little 
more terrible in his case perhaps because of the 
remnants of refinement still to be traced in his well¬ 
shaped features. His weak eyes for once were 
eloquent, but with the eloquence of cupidity and 
unwholesome craving, his lean cheeks twitched and 
his hands shook. 

“ Just a drop, Trent! ” he pleaded. “ I’m not 
feeling well, indeed I’m not! The odours here are so 
foul. A liqueur-glassful will do me all the good in 
the world.” 

“You won’t get it, Monty, so it’s no use whining,” 
Trent said bluntly. “ I’ve given way to you too 
much already. Buck up, man ! We’re on the thres¬ 
hold of fortune and we need all our wits about us.” 

“ Of fortune—fortune! ” Monty’s head dropped 
upon his chest, his nostrils dilated, he seemed to fall 
into a state of stupor. Trent watched him half 
curiously, half contemptuously. 

“ You’re terribly keen on money-making for an 
old ’un,” he remarked, after a somewhat lengthy pause. 
“ What do you want to do with it ? ” 

“ To do with it! ” The old man raised his head. 
“ To do with it! ” The gleam of reawakened desire lit 





A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


13 


up his face. He sat for a moment thinking. Then 
he laughed softly. 

“I will tell you, Master Scarlett Trent,” he said, 
“I wull tell you why I crave for wealth. You are a 
young and an ignorant man. Amongst other things 
you do not know what money will buy. You have 
your coarse pleasures I do not doubt, which seem 
sweet to you ! Beyond them—what ? A tasteless 
and barbaric display, a vulgar generosity, an ignorant 
and purposeless prodigality. Bah! How different 
it is with those who know! There are many things, 
my young friend, which I learned in my younger days, 
and amongst them was the knowledge of how to spend 
money. How to spend it, you understand! It is an 
art, believe me ! I mastered it, and, until the end 
came, it was magnificent. In London and Paris 
to-day to have wealth and to know how to spend it 
is to be the equal of princes! The salons of the 
beautiful fly open before you, great men will clamour 
for your friendship, all the sweetest triumphs which 
love and sport can offer are yours. You stalk amongst 
a world of pigmies a veritable giant, the adored of 
women, the envied of men! You may be old—it 
matters not ; ugly—you will be fooled into reckoning 
yourself an Adonis. Nobility is great, art is great, 
genius is great, but the key to the pleasure storehouse 
of the world is a key of gold—of gold! ” 

He broke off with a little gasp. He held his 
throat and looked imploringly towards the bottle. 
Trent shook his head stonily. There was some¬ 
thing pitiful in the mans talk, in that odd mixture of 
, bitter cynicism and passionate earnestness, but there 


14 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


was also something fascinating. As regards the brandy, 
however, Trent was adamant. 

“ Not a drop,” he declared. “ What a fool you are 
to want it, Monty! You’re a wreck already. You 
want to pull through, don’t you? Leave the filthy 
stuff alone. You’ll not live a month to enjoy your 
coin if we get it! ” 

“ Live ! ” Monty straightened himself out. A 
tremor went through all his frame. 

“Live!” he repeated, with fierce contempt; “you are 
making the common mistake of the whole ignorant 
herd. You are measuring life by its length, when its 
depth alone is of any import. I want no more than 
a year or two at the most, and I promise you, Mr. 
Scarlett Trent, my most estimable young companion, 
that, during that year, I will live more than you in 
your whole lifetime. I will drink deep of pleasures 
which you know nothing of, I will be steeped in joys 
which you will never reach more nearly than the man 
who watches a change in the skies or a sunset across 
the ocean ! To you, with boundless wealth, there will 
be depths of happiness which you will never probe, joys 
which, if you have the wit to see them at all, will be 
no more than a mirage to you.” 

Trent laughed outright, easily and with real mirth. 
Yet in his heart were sown already the seeds of a 
secret dread. There was a ring of passionate truth in 
Monty’s words. He believed what he was saying. 
Perhaps he was right. The man’s inborn hatred of a 
second or inferior place in anything stung him. Were 
there to be any niches after all in the temple of happi¬ 
ness to which he could never climb ? He looked back 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


15 


rapidly, looked down the avenue of a squalid and 
unlovely life, saw himself the child of drink-sodden 
and brutal parents, remembered the Board School with 
its unlovely surroundings, his struggles at a dreary 
trade, his running away and the fierce draughts of 
delight which the joy and freedom of the sea had 
brought to him on the morning when he had crept on 
deck, a stowaway, to be lashed with every rope-end 
and to do the dirty work of every one. Then the 
slavery at a Belgian settlement, the job on a steamer 
trading along the Congo, the life at Buckomari, and 
lastly this bold enterprise in which the savings of years 
were invested. It was a life which called aloud for 
fortune some day or other to make a little atonement. 
The old man was dreaming. Wealth would bring him, 
uneducated though he was, happiness enough and to 
spare. 

A footstep fell softly upon the turf outside. Trent 
sprang at once into an attitude of rigid attention. His 
revolver, which for four days had been at full cock by 
his side, stole out and covered the approaching shadow 
stealing gradually nearer and nearer. The old man 
saw nothing, for he slept, worn out with excitement 
and exhaustion. 



CHAPTER II 


FAT, unwholesome-looking creature, half native, 



half Belgian, waddled across the open space 
towards the hut in which the two strangers had been 
housed. He was followed at a little distance by two 
sturdy natives bearing a steaming pot which they 
carried on a pole between them. Trent set down his 
revolver and rose to his feet. 

“ What news, Oom Sam ? ” he asked. “ Has the 
English officer been heard of ? He must be close up 
now.” 

“ No news,” the little man grunted. “ The King, he 
send some of his own supper to the white men. ‘ They 
got what they want,’ he say. ‘ They start work mine 
soon as like, but they go away from here.’ He not like 
them about the place! See ! ” 

“ Oh, that be blowed! ” Trent muttered. “ What’s 
this in the pot? It don’t smell bad.” 

“ Rabbit,” the interpreter answered tersely. “ Very 
good. Part King’s own supper. White men very 
favoured.” 

Trent bent over the pot which the two men had set 


16 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


17 


upon the ground. He took a fork from his belt and 
dug it in. 

“Very big bones for a rabbit, Sam,” be remarked 
doubtfully. 

Sam looked away. “ Very big rabbits round here,” 
1 he remarked. “ Best keep pot. Send men away.” 

Trem nodded, and the men withdrew. 

“ Stew all right,” Sam whispered confidentially. 
“ You eat him. No fear. But you got to go. King 
beginning get angry. He say white men not to stay. 
They got what he promised, now they go. I know 
King—know this people well! You get away quick. 
He think you want be King here ! You got the papers 
—all you want, eh ? ” 

“ Not quite, Sam,” Trent answered. “ There’s an 
Englishman, Captain Francis, on his way here up the 
Coast, going on to Walgetta Fort. He must be here 
to-morrow. I want him to see the King’s signature. 
If he’s a witness these niggers can never back out of 
the concession. They’re slippery devils. Another 
chap may come on with more rum and they’ll forget 
us and give him the right to work the mines too. 
See! ” 

“ I see,” Sam answered; “ but him not safe to wait. 
You believe me. I know these tarn niggers. They 
take two days get drunk, then get devils, four—raving 
mad. They drunk now. Kill any one to-morrow— 
perhaps you. Kill you certain to-morrow night. You 
listen now! ” 

Trent stood up in the shadow of the overhanging 
roof. Every now and then came a wild, shrill cry from 
the lower end of the village. Some one was beating a 

2 


18 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


frightful, cracked drum which they had got from a 
trader. The tumult was certainly increasing. Trent 
swore softly, and then looked irresolutely over his 
shoulder to where Monty was sleeping. 

“ If the worst comes we shall never get away 
quickly,” he muttered. “ That old carcase can scarcely 
drag himself along.” 

Sam looked at him with cunning eyes. 

“ He not fit only die,” he said softly. “ He very old, 
very sick man, you leave him here ! I see to him.” 

Trent turned away in sick disgust. 

“We’ll be off to-morrow, Sam,” he said shortly. 
“ I say! I’m beastly hungry. What’s in that pot ? ” 

Sam spread out the palms of his hands. 

“ He all right, I see him cooked,” he declared. “ He 
two rabbits and one monkey.” 

Trent took out a plate and helped himself. 

“All right,” he said. “Be off now. We’ll go 
to-morrow before these towsly-headed beauties are 
awake.” 

Sam nodded and waddled off. Trent threw a biscuit 
and hit his companion on the cheek. 

“ Here, wake up, Monty ! ” he exclaimed. “ Supper’s 
come from the royal kitchen. Bring your plate and 
tuck in ! ” 

Monty struggled to his feet and came meekly 
towards where the pot stood simmering upon the 
ground. 

“ I’m not hungry, Trent,” he said, “ but I am very 
thirsty, very thirsty indeed. My throat is all parched. 
I am most uncomfortable. Beally I think your be¬ 
haviour with regard to the brandy is most unkind and 




A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


19 


ungenerous; I shall be ill, I know I shall. Won’t 
you-” 

“ No, I won’t,” Trent interrupted. “ Now shut up all 
that rot and eat something.” 

“ I have no appetite, thank you,” Monty answered, 
with sulky dignity. 

“Eat something, and don’t be a silly ass! ” Trent 
insisted. “ We’ve a hard journey before us, and you’ll 
need all the strength in your carcase to land in Bucko- 
mari again. Here, you’ve dropped some of your 
precious rubbish.” 

Trent stooped forward and picked up what seemed 
to him at first to be a piece of cardboard from the 
ground. He was about to fling it to its owner, when 
he saw that it was a photograph. It was the likeness 
of a girl, a very young girl apparently, for her hair was 
still down her back and her dress was scarcely of the 
orthodox length. It was not particularly well taken, 
but Trent had never seen anything like it before. The 
bps were slightly parted, the deep eyes were brimming 
with laughter, the pose was full of grace, even though 
the girl’s figure was angular. Trent had seen as much 
as this, when he felt the smart of a sudden blow upon 
the cheek, the picture was snatched from his hand, and 
Monty—his face convulsed with anger—glowered 
fiercely upon him. 

“ You infernal young blackguard ! You impertinent, 
meddling blockhead! How dare you presume to look at 
that photograph! How dare you, sir! How dare you! ” 

Trent was too thoroughly astonished to resent either 
the blow or the fierce words. He looked up into his 
aggressor’s face in blank surprise. 






20 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YE STEED AY 


“ I only looked at it,” he muttered. “ It was lying 
on the floor.” 

“ Looked at it! You looked at it! Like your con¬ 
founded impertinence, sir! Who are you to look at 
her! If ever I catch you prying into my concerns 
again, I’ll shoot you—by Heaven I will! ” 

Trent laughed sullenly, and, having finished eating, 
lit his pipe. 

“ Your concerns are of no interest to me,” he said 
shortly; “ keep ’em to yourself—and look here, old 
’un, keep your hands off me! I ain’t a safe man to 
hit let me tell you. Now sit down and cool off! I 
don’t want any more of your tantrums.” 

Then there was a long silence between the two men. 
Monty sat where Trent had been earlier in the night at 
the front of the open hut, his eyes fixed upon the ever- 
rising moon, his face devoid of intelligence, his eyes 
dim. The fire of the last few minutes had speedily 
burnt out. His half-soddened brain refused to answer 
to the sudden spasm of memory which had awakened 
a spark of the former man. If he had thoughts at all, 
they hung around that brandy bottle. The calm 
beauty of the African night could weave no spell upon 
him. A few feet behind, Trent, by the light of the 
moon, was practising tricks with a pack of greasy cards. 
By and by a spark of intelligence found its way into 
Monty’s brain. He turned round furtively. 

“ Trent,” he said, “ this is slow ! Let us have a 
friendly game—you and I.” 

Trent yawned. 

“ Come on, then,” he said. “ Single Poker or 
Euchre, eh?” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


21 


“I do not mind,” Monty replied affably. “Just 
which you prefer.” 

“ Single Poker, then,” Trent said. 

“ And the stakes ? ” 

“We’ve nothing left to play for,” Trent answered 
gloomily, “except cartridges.” 

Monty made a wry face. “ Poker for love, my dear 
Trent,” he said, “ between you and me, would lack all 
the charm of excitement. It would be, in fact, mono¬ 
tonous ! Let us exercise our ingenuity. There must 
be something still of value in our possession.” 

He relapsed into an affectation of thoughtfulness. 
Trent watched him curiously. He knew quite well that 
his partner was dissembling, but he scarcely saw to 
what end. Monty’s eyes, moving round the grass- 
bound hut, stopped at Trent’s knapsack which hung 
from the central pole. He uttered a little excla- 
i mation. 

“ I have it,” he declared. “ The very thing.” 

“ Well! ” 

“You are pleased to set an altogether fictitious 
value upon that half bottle of brandy we have left,” he 
said. “Now I tell you what I will do. In a few 
months we shall both be rich men. I will play you for 
my I 0 U, for fifty pounds, fifty sovereigns, Trent, 
I, against half the contents of that bottle. Come, that 
is a fair offer, is it not ? How we shall laugh at this 
in a year or two ! Fifty pounds against a tumblerful— 
positively there is no more—a tumblerful of brandy.” 

He was watching Trent’s face all the time, but the 
j younger man gave no sign. When he had finished, 
j Trent took up the cards, which he had shuffled for 







22 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Poker, and dealt them out for Patience. Monty’s eyes 
were dim with disappointment. 

“ What! ” he cried. “ You don’t agree ! Did you 
understand me ? Fifty pounds, Trent! Why, you 
must be mad ! ” 

“ Oh, shut up ! ” Trent growled. “ I don’t want your 
money, and the brandy’s poison to you ! Go to sleep ! ” 

Monty crept a little nearer to his partner and laid his 
hand upon his arm. His shirt fell open, showing the 
cords of his throat swollen and twitching. His voice 
was half a sob. 

“ Trent, you are a young man—not old like me. You 
don’t understand my constitution. Brandy is a neces¬ 
sity to me ! I’ve lived on it so long that I shall die if 
you keep it from me. Remember, it’s a whole day since 
I tasted a drop ! Now I’ll make it a hundred. What 
do you say to that ? One hundred ! ” 

Trent paused in his game, and looked steadfastly 
into the eager face thrust close to his. Then he 
shrugged his shoulders and gathered up the cards. 

“You’re the silliest fool I ever knew,” he said 
bluntly, “ but I suppose you’ll worry me into a fever if 
you don’t have your own way.” 

“You agree?” Monty shrieked. Trent nodded and 
dealt the cards. 

“ It must be a show after the draw,” he said. “We 
can’t bet, for we’ve nothing to raise the stakes with ! ” 

Monty was breathing hard and his fingers trembled, 
as though the ague of the swamps was already upon 
him. He took up his cards one by one, and as he 
snatched up the last he groaned. Not a pair ! 

“Four cards,” he whispered hoarsely. Trent dealt 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


23 


them out, looked at his own hand, and, keeping a pair 
of queens, took three more cards. He failed to im¬ 
prove, and threw them upon the floor. With frantic 
eagerness Monty grovelled down to see them—then 
with a shriek of triumph he threw down a pair of 
aces. 

“ Mine! ” he said. “ I kept an ace and drew 
another. Give me the brandy ! ” 

Trent rose up, measured the contents of the bottle 
with his forefinger, and poured out half the contents 
into a horn mug. Monty stood trembling by. 

“ Mind,” Trent said, “ you are a fool to drink it and 
I am a fool to let you ! You risk your life and mine. 
Sam has been up and swears we must clear out to¬ 
morrow. What sort of form do you think you’ll be in 
to walk sixty miles through the swamps and bush, with 
perhaps a score of these devils at our heels ? Come 
now, old ’un, be reasonable.” 

The veins on the old man’s forehead stood out like 
whipcord. 

“ I won it,” he cried. “ Give it me ! * Give it me, I 
say.” 

Trent made no further protest. He walked back to 
where he had been lying and recommenced his Patience. 
Monty drank off the contents of the tumbler in two 
long, delicious gulps ! Then he flung the horn upon 
the floor and laughed aloud. 

“ That’s better,” he cried, “ that’s better ! What an 
ass you are, Trent! To imagine that a drain like that 
would have any effect at all, save to put life into a man ! 
Bah ! what do you know about it ? ” 

Trent did not raise his head. He went on with his 


t 



24 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


solitary game and, to all appearance, paid no heed to 
his companion’s words. Monty was not in the humour 
to be ignored. He flung himself on the ground oppo¬ 
site to his companion. 

“What a slow-blooded sort of creature you are, 
Trent! ” he said. “ Don’t you ever drink, don’t you 
ever take life a little more gaily?” 

“Not when I am carrying my life in my hands,” 
Trent answered grimly. “ I get drunk sometimes— 
when there’s nothing on and the blues come—never at 
a time like this though.” 

“It is pleasant to hear,” the old man remarked, 
stretching out his limbs, “ that you do occasionally 
relax. In your present frame of mind—you will not 
be offended I trust—you are just a little heavy as a 
companion. Never mind. In a year’s time I will be 
teaching you how to dine—to drink champagne, to— 
by the way, Trent, have you ever tasted champagne ? ” 

“Never,” Trent answered gruffly “Don’t know 
that I want to either.” 

Monty was compassionate. “ My young friend,” he 
said, “ I would give my soul to have our future before 
us, to have your youth and never to have tasted cham¬ 
pagne. Phew! the memory of it is delicious! ” 

“ Why don’t you go to bed ? ” Trent said. “You’ll 
need all your strength to-morrow ! ” 

Monty waved his hand with serene contempt. 

“I am a man of humours, my dear friend,” he said, 
“ and to-night my humour is to talk and to be merry. 
What is it the philosophers tell us ?—that the sweetest 
joys of life are the joys of anticipation. Here we are, 
then, on the eve of our triumph—let us talk, plan, be 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


25 


happy. Bah ! how thirsty it makes one! Come, Trent, 
what stake will you have me set up against that other 
tumblerful of brandy.” 

“ No stake that you can offer,” Trent answered 
shortly. “ That drop of brandy may stand between us 
and death. Pluck up your courage, man, and forget 
for a bit that there is such a thing as drink.” 

Monty frowned and looked stealthily across towards 
the bottle. 

“ That’s all very well, my friend,” he said, “ but 
kindly remember that you are young, and well, and 
strong. I am old, and an invalid. I need support. 
Don’t be hard on me, Trent. Say fifty again.” 

“ No, nor fifty hundred,” Trent answered shortly. 
“ I don’t want your money. Don’t be such a fool, or 
you’ll never live to enjoy it.” 

Monty shuffled on to his feet, and walked aimlessly 
about the hut. Once or twice as he passed the place 
where the bottle rested, he hesitated; at last he paused, 
his eyes lit up, he stretched out his hand stealthily 
But before he could possess himself of it Trent’s hand 
was upon his collar. 

“You poor fool!” he said; “ leave it alone can’t you? 
You want to poison yourself I know. Well, you can do 
as you jolly well like when you are out of this—not 
before.” 

Monty’s eyes flashed evil fires, but his tone remained 
persuasive. “ Trent,” he said, “ be reasonable. Look 
at me! I ask you now whether I am not better for 
that last drop. I tell you that it is food and wine to 
me. I need it to brace me up for to-morrow. Now 
listen! Name your own stake ! Set it up against that 



26 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


single glass ! I am not a mean man, Trent. Shall we 
say one hundred and fifty?” 

Trent looked at him half scornfully, half depre- 
catingly. 

“ You are only wasting your breath, Monty,” he 
said. “ I couldn’t touch money won in such a way, 
and I want to get you out of this alive. There’s fever 
in the air all around us, and if either of us got a touch 
of it that drop of brandy might stand between us and 
death. Don’t worry me like a spoilt child. Roll your¬ 
self up and get to sleep ! I’ll keep watch.” 

** I will be reasonable,” Monty whined. “ I will go 
to sleep, my friend, and worry you no more when I have 
had just one sip of that brandy! It is the finest 
medicine in the world for me! It will keep the fever 
off. You do not want money you say ! Come, is there 
anything in this world which I possess, or may possess, 
which you will set against that three inches of brown 
liquid ? ” 

Trent was on the point of an angry negative. 
Suddenly he stopped—hesitated—and said nothing. 
Monty’s face lit up with sudden hope. 

“ Come,” he cried, “ there is something I see! 
You’re the right sort, Trent. Don’t be afraid to speak 
out. It’s yours, man, if you win it. Speak up ! ” 

“I will stake that brandy,” Trent answered, “against 
the picture you let fall from your pocket an hour ago.” 


CHAPTEB HI 



I OB a moment Monty stood as though dazed. Thei 


the excitement which had shone in his face slowly 
subsided. He stood quite silent, muttering softly to 
himself, his eyes fixed upon Trent. 

“ Her picture! My little girl’s picture! Trent, 
you’re joking, you’re mad! ” 

“ Am I ? ” Trent answered nonchalantly. “ Perhaps 
so ! Anyhow those are my terms! You can play or 
not as you like ! I don’t care.” 

A red spot burned in Monty’s cheeks, and a sudden 
passion shook him. He threw himself upon Trent 
and would have struck him but that he was as a child 
in the younger man’s grasp. Trent held him at a 
distance easily and without effort. 

“ There’s nothing for you to make a fuss about,” he 
said gruffly. “ I answered a plain question, that’s all. 
I don’t want to play at all. I should most likely lose, 
and you’re much better without the brandy.” 

Monty was foaming with passion and baffled desire. 

“ You beast!” he cried, “ you low, ill-bred cur! How 
dared you look at her picture! How dare you make 


28 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


me such an offer! Let me go, I say! Let me 
go!” 

But Trent did not immediately relax his grasp. It 
was evidently not safe to let him go. His fit of anger 
bordered upon hysterics. Presently he grew calmer 
but more maudlin. Trent at last released him, and, 
thrusting the bottle of brandy into his coat-pocket, 
returned to his game of Patience. Monty lay on the 
ground watching him with red, shifty eyes. 

“ Trent,” he whimpered. But Trent did not answer 
him. 

“Trent, you needn’t have been so beastly rough. 
My arm is black and blue and I am sore all over.” 

But Trent remained silent. Monty crept a little 
nearer. He was beginning to feel a very injured 
person. 

“ Trent,” he said, “ I’m sorry we’ve had words. 
Perhaps I said more than I ought to have done. I 
did not mean to call you names. I apologise.” 

“Granted,” Trent said tersely, bending over his 
game. 

“You see, Trent,” he went on, “ you’re not a family 
man, are you? If you were, you would understand. 
I’ve been down in the mire for years, an utter scoundrel, 
a poor, weak, broken-down creature. But I’ve always 
kept that picture! It’s my little girl! She doesn’t 
know I’m alive, never will know, but it’s all I have 
to remind me of her, and I couldn’t part with it, 
could I? ” 

“ You’d be a blackguard if you did,” Trent answered 
curtly. 

Monty’s face brightened. 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YE STEED AY 


29 


“I was sure,” he declared, “that upon reflection you 
would think so. I was sure of it. I have always found 
you very fair, Trent, and very reasonable. . Now shall 
we say two hundred ? ” 

“You seem very anxious for a game,” Trent re¬ 
marked. “Listen, I will play you for any amount you 
like, my I 0 U against your I 0 U. Are you agree¬ 
able ? ” 

Monty shook his head. “ I don’t want your money, 
Trent,” he said. “ Y T ou know that I want that brandy. 
I will leave it to you to name the stake I am to set up 
against it.” 

“ As regards that,” Trent answered shortly, “ I’ve 
named the stake; Ill not consider any other.” 

Monty’s face once more grew black with anger. 

“You are a beast, Trent—a bully!” he exclaimed 
passionately ; “ I’ll not part with it! ” 

“ I hope you won’t,” Trent answered. “ I’ve told 
you what I should think of you if you did.” 

Monty moved a little nearer to the opening of the 
hut. He drew the photograph hesitatingly from his 
pocket, and looked at it by the moonlight. His eyes 
filled with maudlin tears. He raised it to his lips and 
kissed it. 

“ My little girl,” he whispered. “ My little daughter.” 

Trent had re-lit his pipe and started a fresh game of 
Patience. Monty, standing in the opening, began to 
mutter to himself. 

“ I am sure to win—Trent is always unlucky at 
cards—such a little risk, and the brandy—ah ! ” 

He sucked in his lips for a moment with a slight 
gurgling sound. He looked over his shoulder, and his 


30 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


face grew haggard with longing. His eyes sought 
Trent’s, but Trent was smoking stolidly and looking at 
the cards spread out before him, as a chess-player at 
his pieces. 

“ Such a very small risk,” Monty whispered softly 
to himself. “ I need the brandy too. I cannot sleep 
without it! Trent! ” 

Trent made no answer. He did not wish to hear. 
Already he had repented. He was not a man of keen 
susceptibility, but he was a trifle ashamed of himself. 
At that moment he was tempted to draw the cork, and 
empty the brandy out upon the ground. 

“ Trent! Do you hear, Trent ? ” 

He could no longer ignore the hoarse, plaintive cry. 
He looked unwillingly up. Monty was standing over 
him with white, twitching face and bloodshot eyes. 

“Deal the cards,” he muttered simply, and sat 
down. 

Trent hesitated. Monty misunderstood him and 
slowly drew the photograph from his pocket and laid it 
face downwards upon the table. Trent bit his lip and 
frowned. 

“ Bather a foolish game this,” he said. “ Let’s call 
it off, eh ? You shall have—well, a thimbleful of the 
brandy and go to bed. I’ll sit up, I’m not tired.” 

But Monty swore a very profane and a very ugly 
oath. 

“ I’ll have the lot,” he muttered. “ Every drop; 

every d-d drop! Ay, and I’ll keep the picture. You 

see, my friend, you see; deal the cards.” 

Then Trent, who had more faults than most men, 
but who hated bad language, looked at the back of the 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


31 


photograph, and, shuddering, hesitated no longer. He 
shuffled the cards and handed them to Monty. 

“ Your deal,” he said laconically. “ Same as before 
I suppose ? ” 

Monty nodded, for his tongue was hot and his mouth 
dry, and speech was not an easy thing. But he dealt 
the cards, one by one with jealous care, and when he 
had finished he snatched upon his own, and looked at 
each with sickly disappointment. 

“ How many? ” Trent asked, holding out the pack. 

Monty hesitated, half made up his mind to throw 
away three cards, then put one upon the table. Finally, 
with a little w T hine, he laid three down with trembling 
fingers and snatched at the three which Trent handed 
him. His face lit up, a scarlet flush burned in his 
cheek. It was evident that the draw had improved 
his hand. 

Trent took his own cards up, looked at them non¬ 
chalantly, and helped himself to one card. Monty 
could restrain himself no longer. He threw his hand 
upon the ground. 

“Three’s,” he cried in fierce triumph, “three of a 
kind—nines ! ” 

Trent laid his own cards calmly down. 

“ A full hand,” he said, “ kings up.” 

Monty gave a little gasp and then a moan. His eyes 
were fixed with a fascinating glare upon those five 
cards which Trent had so calmly laid down. Trent 
took up the photograph, thrust it carefully into his 
pocket without looking at it, and rose to his feet. 

“ Look here, Monty,” he said, “ you shall have the 
brandy; you’ve no right to it, and you’re best without 


32 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


it by long chalks. But there, you shall have your own 
way.” 

Monty rose to his feet and balanced himself against 
the post. 

“ Never mind—about the brandy,” he faltered. 
“ Give me back the photograph.” 

Trent shrugged his shoulders. “Why?” he asked 
coolly. “ Full hand beats three, don’t it ? It was my 
win and my stake.” 

“ Then—then take that! ” But the blow never 
touched Trent. He thrust out his hand and held his 
assailant away at arm’s length. 

Monty burst into tears. 

“ You don’t want it,” he moaned; “ what’s my little 
girl to you ? You never saw her, and you never will see 
her in your life.” 

“ She is nothing to me of course,” Trent answered. 
“ A moment or so ago her picture was worth less to 
you than a quarter of a bottle of brandy.” 

“ I was mad,” Monty moaned. “ She was my own 
little daughter, God help her ! ” 

“ I never heard you speak of her before,” Trent 
remarked. 

There was a moment’s silence. Then Monty crept 
out between the posts into the soft darkness, and his 
voice seemed to come from a great distance. 

“ I have never told you about her,” he said, “ because 
she is not the sort of woman who is spoken of at all to 
such men as you. I am no more worthy to be her 
father than you are to touch the hem of her skirt* 
There was a time, Trent, many, many years ago, when 
I was proud to think that she was my daughter, my own 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


33 


flesh and blood. When I began to go down—it was 
different. Down and down and lower still! Then she 
ceased to be my daughter ! After all it is best. I am 
not fit to carry her picture. You keep it. Trent—you 
keep it—and give me the brandy.” 

He staggered up on to his feet and crept back into 
the hut. His hands were outstretched, claw-like and 
bony, his eyes were fierce as a wild cat’s. But Trent 
stood between him and the brandy bottle. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ you shall have the picture 
back—curse you! But listen. If I were you and had 
wife, or daughter, or sweetheart like this”—he touched 
the photograph almost reverently—“why, I’d go through 
fire and water but I’d keep myself decent; ain’t you a 
silly old fool, now ? We’ve made our piles, you can go 
back and take her a fortune, give her jewels and pretty 
dresses, and all the fal-de-lals that women love. You’ll 
never do it if you muddle yourself up with that stuff. 
Pull yourself together, old ’un. Chuck the drink till 
we’ve seen this thing through at any rate ! ” 

“ You don’t know my little girl,” Monty muttered. 
“How should you? She’d care little for money or 
gewgaws, but she’d break her heart to see her old 
father—come to this—broken down—worthless—a 
hopeless, miserable wretch. It’s too late. Trent, I’ll 
have just a glass I think. It will do me good. I have 
been fretting, Trent, you see how pale I am.” 

He staggered towards the bottle. Trent watched 
him, interfering no longer. With a little chuckle of 
content he seized upon it and, too fearful of inter¬ 
ference from Trent to wait for a glass, raised it to his 
lips. There was a gurgling in his throat—a little 


34 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


spasm as he choked, and released his lips for a moment. 
Then the bottle slid from his nerveless fingers to the 
floor, and the liquor oozed away in a little brown 
stream; even Trent dropped his pack of cards and 
sprang up startled. For bending down under the 
sloping roof was a European, to all appearance an 
Englishman, in linen clothes and white hat. It was 
the man for whom they had waited. 


CHAPTER IV 

rpRENT moved forward and greeted the newcomer 
awkwardly. “ You’re Captain Francis,” he said. 
" We’ve been waiting for you.” 

The statement appeared to annoy the Explorer. 
He looked nervously at the two men and about the hut. 

“ I don’t know how the devil you got to hear of my 
coming, or what you want with me,” he answered 
brusquely. “ Are you both English ? ” 

Trent assented, waving his hand towards his com¬ 
panion in introductory fashion. 

“That’s my pal, Monty,” he said. “We’re both 
English right enough.” 

Monty raised a flushed face and gazed with blood¬ 
shot eyes at the man who was surveying him so 
calmly. Then he gave a little gurgling cry and turned 
away. Captain Francis started and moved a step 
towards him. There was a puzzled look in his face— 
as though he were making an effort to recall something 
familiar. 

“ What is the matter with him ? ” he asked Trent. 

“ Drink ! ” 


85 


36 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ Then why the devil don’t you see that he doesn’t 
get too much ? ” the newcomer said sharply. “ Don’t 
you know what it means in this climate ? Why, he’s 
on the high-road to a fever now. Who on this earth 
is it he reminds me of ? ” 

Trent laughed shortly. 

“ There’s never a man in Buckomari—no, nor in all 
Africa—could keep Monty from the drink,” he said. 
“ Live with him for a month and try it. It wouldn’t 
suit you—I don’t think.” 

He glanced disdainfully at the smooth face and 
careful dress of their visitor, who bore the inspection 
with a kindly return of contempt. 

“ I’ve no desire to try,” he said ; “ but he reminds 
me very strongly of some one I knew in England. 
What do you call him—Monty ? ” 

Trent nodded. 

“Never heard any other name,” he said. 

“ Have you ever heard him speak of England ? ” 
Francis asked. 

Trent hesitated. What was this newcomer to him 
that he should give away his pal ? Less than nothing ! 
He hated the fellow already, with a rough, sensitive 
man’s contempt of a bearing and manners far above 
his own. 

“ Never. He don’t talk.” 

Captain Francis moved a step towards the huddled- 
up figure breathing heavily upon the floor, but Trent, 
leaning over, stopped him. 

“Let him be,” he said gruffly. “I know enough 
of him to be sure that he needs no one prying and 
ferreting into his affairs. Besides, it isn’t safe for 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


37 


us to be dawdling about here. How many soldiers 
have you brought with you?” 

“Two hundred,” Captain Francis answered shortly. 

Trent whistled. 

“ We’re all right for a bit, then,” he said ; “ but it’s 
a pretty sort of a picnic you’re on, eh ? ” 

“ Never mind my business,” Captain Francis 
answered curtly; “ what about yours ? Why have 
you been hanging about here for me ? ” 

“I’ll show you,” Trent answered, taking a paper 
from his knapsack. “ You see, it’s like this. There 
are two places near this show where I’ve found gold. 
No use blowing about it down at Buckomari—the 
fellows there haven’t the nerve of a kitten. This cursed 
climate has sapped it all out of them, I reckon. 
Monty and I clubbed together and bought presents 
for his Majesty, the boss here, and Monty wrote out 
this little document—sort of concession to us to sink 
mines and work them, you see. The old buffer signed 
it like winking, directly he spotted the rum, but we 
ain’t quite happy about it; you see, it ain’t to be 
supposed that he’s got a conscience, and there’s only 
us saw him put his mark there. We’ll have to raise 
money to work the thing upon this, and maybe there’ll 
be difficulties. So what we thought was this. Here’s 
an English officer coming; let’s get him to witness it, 
and then if the King don’t go on the square, why, it’s 
a Government matter.” 

Captain Francis lit a cigarette and smoked thought¬ 
fully for a moment or two. 

“I don’t quite see,” he said, “why we should risk 
a row for the sake of you two.” 


38 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Trent snorted. 

“ Look here,” he said; “ I suppose you know your 
business. You don’t want me to tell you that a decent 
excuse for having a row with this old Johnny is about 
the best thing that could happen to you. He’s a bit 
too near the borders of civilisation to be a decent savage. 
Sooner or later some one will have to take him under 
their protection. If you don’t do it, the French will. 
They’re hanging round now, looking out for an oppor¬ 
tunity. Listen! ” 

Both men moved instinctively towards the open 
part of the hut and looked across towards the village. 
Up from the little open space in front of the King’s 
dwelling-house leaped a hissing bright flame; they 
had kindled a fire, and black forms of men, stark 
naked and wounding themselves with spears, danced 
around it and made the air hideous with discordant 
cries. The King himself, too drunk to stand, squatted 
upon the ground with an empty bottle by his side. 
A breath of wind brought a strong, noxious odour to 
the two men who stood watching. Captain Francis 
puffed hard at his cigarette. 

“ Ugh ! ” he muttered ; “ beastly ! ” 

“ You may take my word for it,” Trent said gruffly, 
“ that if your two hundred soldiers weren’t camped 
in the bush yonder, you and I and poor Monty would 
be making sport for them to-night. Now come. Do 
you think a quarrel with that crew is a serious thing 
to risk ? ” 

“In the interests of civilisation,” Captain Francis 
answered, with a smile, “ I think not.” 

“ I don t care how you put it,” Trent answered 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


39 


shortly. “You soldiers all prate of the interests of 
civilisation. Of course it’s all rot. You want the 
land—you want to rule, to plant a flag, and be called 
a patriot.” 

Captain Francis laughed. “ And you, my superior 
friend,” he said, glancing at Trent, gaunt, ragged, not 
too clean, and back at Monty—“ you want gold— 
honestly if you can get it, if not—well, it is not too 
wise to ask. Your partnership is a little mysterious, 
isn’t it—with a man like that ? Out of your magni¬ 
ficent morality I trust that he may get his share.” 

Trent flushed a brick - red. An angry answer 
trembled upon his lips, but Oom Sam, white and with 
his little fat body quivering with fear, came hurrying 
up to them in the broad track of the moonlight. 

“ King he angry,” he called out to them breathlessly. 
“ Him mad drunk angry. He say white men all go 
away, or he fire bush and use the poisoned arrow. Me 
off! Got bearers waiting.” 

“ If you go before we’ve finished,” Trent said, “I’ll 
not pay you a penny. Please yourself.” 

The little fat man trembled—partly with rage, 
partly with fear. 

“ You stay any longer,” he said, “ and King him 
send after you and kill on way home. White English 
soldiers go Buckomari with you ? ” 

Trent shook his head. 

“ Going the other way,” he said, “ down to Wana 
Hill.” 

Oom Sam shook his head vigorously. 

“ Now you mind,” he said ; “ I tell you, King send 
after you. Him blind mad.” 


40 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Oom Sam scuttled away. Captain Francis looked 
thoughtful. “ That little fat chap may be right,” he 
remarked. “ If I were you I’d get out of this sharp. 
You see, I’m going the other way. I can’t help you.” 

Trent set his teeth. 

“ I’ve spent a good few years trying to put a bit 
together, and this is the first chance I’ve had,” he 
said; “ I’m going to have you back me as a British 
subject on that concession. We’ll go down into the 
village now if you’re ready.” 

“ I’ll get an escort,” Francis said. “ Best to 
impress ’em a bit, I think. Half a minute.” 

He stepped back into the hut and looked stead¬ 
fastly at the man who was still lying doubled up upon 
the floor. Was it his fancy, or had those eyes closed 
swiftly at his turning—was it by accident, too, that 
Monty, with a little groan, changed his position at 
that moment, so that his face was in the shadow? 
Captain Francis was puzzled. 

“ It’s like him,” he said to himself softly; “ but 
after all the thing’s too improbable ! ” 

He turned away with a shade upon his face and 
followed Trent out into the moonlight. The screeching 
from the village below grew louder and more hideous 
every minute. 


* CHAPTER Y 


rpHE howls became a roar, blind passion was changed 
into purposeful fury. Who were these white men 
to march so boldly into the presence of the King without 
even the formality of sending an envoy ahead ? For 
the King of Bekwando, drunk or sober, was a stickler 
for etiquette. It pleased him to keep white men 
waiting. For days sometimes a visitor was kept 
waiting his pleasure, not altogether certain either as 
to his ultimate fate, for there were ugly stories as to 
those who had journeyed to Bekwando and never been 
seen or heard of since. Those were the sort of visitors 
with whom his ebon Majesty loved to dally until they 
became pale with fright or furious with anger and 
impatience ; but men like this white captain, who had 
brought him no presents, who came in overwhelming 
force and demanded a passage through his country as 
a matter of right were his special detestation. On his 
arrival he had simply marched into the place at the 
head of his columns of Hausas without ceremony, 
almost as a master, into the very presence of the King. 
Now he had come again with one of those other 


42 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTERDAY 


miscreants who at least had knelt before him and 
brought rum and many other presents. A slow, 
burning, sullen wrath was kindled in the King’s heart 
as the three men drew near. His people, half-mad 
with excitement and debauch, needed only a cry from 
him to have closed like magic round these insolent 
intruders. His thick lips were parted, his breath came 
hot and fierce whilst he hesitated. But away outside 
the clearing was that little army of Hausas, clean¬ 
limbed, faithful, well drilled and armed. He choked 
down his wrath. There were grim stories about those 
who had yielded to the luxury of slaying these white 
men—stories of villages razed to the ground and 
destroyed, of a King himself who had been shot, of 
vengeance very swift and very merciless. He closed 
his mouth with a snap and sat up with drunken 
dignity. Oom Sam, in fear and trembling, moved to 
his side. 

“ What they want ? ” the King asked. 

Oom Sam spread out the document which Trent 
had handed him upon a tree-stump, and explained. 
His Majesty nodded more affably. The document 
reminded him of the pleasant fact that there were 
three casks of rum to come to him every year. Besides, 
he rather liked scratching his royal mark upon the 
smooth, white paper. He was quite willing to repeat 
the performance, and took up the pen which Sam 
handed him readily. 

“ Him white man just come,” Oom Sam explained; 
“ want see you do this.” 

His Majesty was flattered, and, with the air of one 
to whom the signing of treaties and concessions is an 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


43 


everyday affair, affixed a thick, black cross upon the 
spot indicated. 

“ That all right?” he asked Oom Sam. 

Oom Sam bowed to the ground. 

“ Him want to know,” he said, jerking his head 
towards Captain Francis, “ whether you know what 
means ? ” 

His forefinger wandered aimlessly down the docu¬ 
ment. His Majesty’s reply was prompt and cheerful. 

“ Three barrels of rum a year.” 

Sam explained further. “ There will be white men 
come digging,” he said; “white men with engines 
that blow, making holes under the ground and cutting 
trees.” 

The King was interested. “ Where ? ” he asked. 

Oom Sam pointed westward through the bush. 

“ Down by creek-side.” 

The King was thoughtful. “ Rum come all right ? ” 
he asked. 

Oom Sam pointed to the papers. 

“ Say so there,” he declared. “ All quite 
plain.” 

The King grinned. It was not regal, but he 
certainly did it. If white men come too near they 
must be shot—carefully and from ambush. He leaned 
back with the air of desiring the conference to cease. 
Oom Sam turned to Captain Francis. 

“ King him quite satisfied,” he declared. “ Him 
say all explained before—he agree.” 

The King suddenly woke up again. He clutched 
Sam by the arm, and whispered in his ear. This time 
it was Sam who grinned. 


44 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ King, him say him signed paper twice,” he explained. 
“ Him want four barrels of rum now.” 

Trent laughed harshly. 

“He shall swim in it, Sam,” he said ; “he shall 
float down to hell upon it.” 

Oom Sam explained to the King that, owing to the 
sentiments of affection and admiration with which the 
white men regarded him, the three barrels should be 
made into four, whereupon his Majesty bluntly pro¬ 
nounced the audience at an end and waddled off into 
his Imperial abode. 

The two Englishmen walked slowly back to the hut. 
Between them there had sprung up from the first 
moment a strong and mutual antipathy. The blunt 
savagery of Trent, his apparently heartless treatment of 
his weaker partner, and his avowed unscrupulousness, 
offended the newcomer much in the same manner as 
in many ways he himself was obnoxious to Trent. His 
immaculate fatigue-uniform, his calm superciliousness, 
his obvious air of belonging to a superior class, were 
galling to Trent beyond measure. He himself felt 
the difference—he realised his ignorance, his unkempt 
and uncared-for appearance. Perhaps, as the two men 
walked side by side, some faint foreshadowing of the 
future showed to Trent another and a larger world 
where they two would once more walk side by side, 
the outward differences between them lessened, the 
smouldering irritation of the present leaping up into 
the red-hot flame of hatred. Perhaps it was just as 
well for John Francis that the man who walked so 
sullenly by his side had not the eyes of a seer, for it 
was a wild country and Trent himself had drunk deep 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


45 


of its lawlessness. A little accident with a knife, a 
carelessly handled revolver, and the man who was 
destined to stand more than once in his way would 
pass out of his life for ever. But in those days Trent 
knew nothing of what was to come—which was just 
as well for John Francis. 

* * * * * 

Monty was sitting up when they reached the hut, 
but at the sight of Trent’s companion he cowered back 
and affected sleepiness. This time, however, Francis 
was not to be denied. He walked to Monty’s side, and 
stood looking down upon him. 

“I think,” he said gently, “that we have met 
before.” 

“ A mistake,” Monty declared. “ Never saw you in 
my life. Just off to sleep.” 

But Francis had seen the trembling of the man’s 
lips, and his nervously shaking hands. 

“ There is nothing to fear,” he said ; “I wanted to 
speak to you as a friend.” 

“ Don’t know you; don’t want to speak to you,” 
Monty declared. 

Francis stooped down and whispered a name in the 
ear of the sullen man. Trent leaned forward, but he 
could not hear it—only he too saw the shudder and 
caught the little cry which broke from the white lips 
of his partner. 

Monty sat up, white, despairing, with strained, set 
face and bloodshot eyes. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ I may be what you say, and 


46 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTERDAY 


I may not. It’s no business of yours. Do you hear ? 
Now be off and leave me alone ! Such as I am, I am. 
I won’t be interfered with. But-” 

Monty’s voice became a shriek. 

“ Leave me alone ! ” he cried. “ I have no name 
I tell you, no past, no future. Let me alone, or by 
Heaven I’ll shoot you! ” 

Francis shrugged his shoulders, and turned away 
with a sigh. 

“ A word with you outside,” he said to Trent—and 
Trent followed him out into the night. The moon 
was paling—in the east there was a faint shimmer of 
dawn. A breeze was rustling in the trees. The two 
men stood face to face. 

“Look here, sir,” Francis said, “I notice that this 
concession of yours is granted to you and your partner 
jointly whilst alive and to the survivor, in case of the 
death of either of you.” 

“ What then ? ” Trent asked fiercely. 

“ This ! It’s a beastly unfair arrangement, but I 
suppose it’s too late to upset it. Your partner is 
half sodden with drink now. You know what that 
means in this climate. You’ve the wit to keep 
sober enough yourself. You’re a strong man, and he 
is weak. You must take care of him. You can if 
you will.” 

“ Anything else ? ” Trent asked roughly. 

The officer looked his man up and down. 

“ We’re in a pretty rough country,” he said, “ and a 
man gets into the habit of having his own way here. 
But listen to me! If anything happens to your 
partner here or in Buckomari, you’ll have me to reckon 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


47 


with. I shall not forget. We are bound to meet! 
Remember that! ” 

Trent turned his back upon him in a fit of passion 
which choked down all speech. Captain Francis lit a 
cigarette and walked across towards his camp. 


CHAPTEK VI 



SKY like flame, and an atmosphere of sulphur. 


No breath of air, not a single ruffle in the great, 
drooping leaves of the African trees and dense, prickly 
shrubs. All around the dank, nauseous odour of 
poison flowers, the ceaseless dripping of poisonous 
moisture. From the face of the man who stood 
erect, unvanquished as yet in the struggle for life, the 
fierce sweat poured like rain—his older companion had 
sunk to the ground and the spasms of an ugly death 
were twitching at his whitening lips. 

“ I’m done, Trent,” he gasped faintly. “ Fight 
your way on alone. You’ve a chance yet. The way’s 
getting a bit easier—I fancy we’re on the right track 
and we’ve given those black devils the slip ! Nurse 
your strength ! You’ve a chance! Let me be. It’s 
no use carrying a dead man.” 

Gaunt and wild, with the cold fear of death before 
him also, the younger man broke out into a fit of 
cursing. 

“ May they rot in the blackest corner of hell, Oom 
Sam and those miserable vermin!” he shouted. “A 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


49 


path all the way, the fever season over, the swamps 
dry ! Oh! when I think of Sam’s smooth jargon I 
would give my chance of life, such as it is, to have him 
here for one moment. To think that that beast must 
live and we die ! ” 

“ Prop me up against this tree, Trent—and listen,” 
Monty whispered. “ Don’t fritter away the little 
strength you have left.” 

Trent did as he was told. He had no particular 
affection for his partner and the prospect of his death 
scarcely troubled him. Yet for twenty miles and 
more, through fetid swamps and poisoned jungles, he 
had carried him over his shoulder, fighting fiercely for 
the lives of both of them, while there remained any 
chance whatever of escape. Now he knew that it was 
in vain, he regretted only his wasted efforts—he had 
no sentimental regrets in leaving him. It was his 
own life he wanted—his own life he meant to fight 
for. 

“ I wouldn’t swear at Oom Sam too hard,” Monty 
continued. “Kemember for the last two days he was 
doing all he could to get us out of the place. It was 
those fetish fellows who worked the mischief and he— 
certainly—warned us all he could. He took us safely 
to Bekwando and he worked the oracle with the 
King ! ” 

“ Yes, and afterwards sneaked off with Francis,” 
Trent broke in bitterly, “ and took every bearer with 
him—after we’d paid them for the return journey too. 
Sent us out here to be trapped and butchered like rats. 
If we’d only had a guide we should have been at 
Buckomari by now.” 


4 


50 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“He was right about the gold,” Monty faltered. 
“It’s there for the picking up. If only we could have 
got back we were rich for life. If you escape—you 
need never do another stroke of work as long as you 
live.’* 

Trent stood upright, wiped the dank sweat from his 
forehead and gazed around him fiercely, and upwards 
at that lurid little patch of blue sky. 

“ If I escape ! ” he muttered. “ I’ll get out of this 
if I die walking. “ I’m sorry you’re done, Monty,’’ he 
continued slowly. “ Say the word and I’ll have one 
more spell at carrying you! You’re not a heavy 
weight and I’m rested now ! ’’ 

But Monty, in whose veins was the chill of death 
and who sought only for rest, shook his head. 

“ It shakes me too much,” he said, “ and it’s only a 
waste of strength. You get on, Trent, and don’t you 
bother about me. You’ve done your duty by your 
partner and a bit more. You might leave me the 
small revolver in case those howling savages come up 
—and Trent! ” 

“ Yes ! ” 

“ The picture—just for a moment. I’d like to have 
one look at her! ” 

Trent drew it out from his pocket—awkwardly—and 
with a little shame at the care which had prompted 
him to wrap it so tenderly in the oilskin sheet. Monty 
shaded his face with his hands, and the picture stole 
up to his lips. Trent stood a little apart and hated 
himself for this last piece of inhumanity. He pretended 
to be listening for the stealthy approach of their 
enemies. In reality he was struggling with the feel- 


A 



“Trent stood upright and gazed around him fiercely.” 

[Page 50 






















































































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A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTERDAY 


51 


ing which prompted him to leave this picture with the 
dying man. 

“ I suppose you’d best have it,” he said sullenly at 
• last. 

But Monty shook his head feebly and held out the 
picture. 

Trent took it with an odd sense of shame which 
puzzled him. He was not often subject to anything of 
the sort. 

“ It belongs to you, Trent. I lost it on the square, 
and it’s the only social law I’ve never broken—to pay 
my gambling debts. There’s one word more ! ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ It’s about that clause in our agreement. I never 
thought it was quite fair, you know, Trent! ” 

“ Which clause ? ” 

“ The clause which—at my death—makes you sole 
owner of the whole concession. You see—the odds 
were scarcely even, were they ? It wasn’t likely any¬ 
thing would happen to you ! ” 

“ I planned the thing,” Trent said, “ and I saw it 
through ! You did nothing but find a bit of brass. It 
was only square that the odds should be in my favour. 
Besides, you agreed. You signed the thing.” 

“ But I wasn’t quite well at the time,” Monty 
faltered. “ I didn’t quite understand. No, Trent, it’s 
not quite fair. I did a bit of the work at least, and 
I’m paying for it with my life ! ” 

“What’s it matter to you now?” Trent said, with 
unintentional brutality. “You can’t take it with you.” 

Monty raised himself a little. His eyes, lit with 
feverish fire, were fastened upon the other man. 


52 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ There’s my little girl! ” he said hoarsely. “ I’d 
like to leave her something. If the thing turns out 
big, Trent, you can spare a small share. There’s a 
letter here ! It’s to my lawyers. They’ll tell you all 
about her.” 

Trent held out his hands for the letter. 

“ All right,” he said, with sullen ungraciousness. 
“ I’ll promise something. I won’t say how much! 
We’ll see.” 

“ Trent, you’ll keep your word,” Monty begged. 
“ I’d like her to know that I thought of her.” 

“ Oh, very well,” Trent declared, thrusting the 
letter into his pocket. “ It’s a bit outside our agree¬ 
ment, you know, but I’ll see to it anyhow. Anything 
else ? ” 

Monty fell back speechless. There was a sudden 
change in his face. Trent, who had seen men die 
before, let go his hand and turned away without any 
visible emotion. Then he drew himself straight, and 
set his teeth hard together. 

“ I’m going to get out of this,” he said to himself 
slowly and with fierce emphasis. “ I’m not for dying 
and I won’t die ! ” 

He stumbled on a few steps, a little black snake 
crept out of its bed of mud, and looked at him with 
yellow eyes protruding from its upraised head. He 
kicked it savagely away—a crumpled, shapeless mass. 
It was a piece of brutality typical of the man. Ahead 
he fancied that the air was clearer—the fetid mists less 
choking—in the deep night-silence a few hours back 
he had fancied that he had heard the faint thunder of 
the sea. If this were indeed so, it would be but a short 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


53 


distance now to the end of his journey. With dull, 
glazed eyes and clenched hands, he reeled on. A sort 
of stupor had laid hold of him, but through it all his 
brain was working, and he kept steadily to a fixed 
course. Was it the sea in his ears, he wondered, that 
long, monotonous rolling of sound, and there were 
lights before his eyes—the lights of Buckomari, or the 
lights of death ! . . . 

They found him an hour or two later unconscious, 
but alive, on the outskirts of the village. 

* * * * 

Three days later two men were seated face to face in 
a long wooden house, the largest and most important 
in Buckomari village. 

Smoking a corn-cob pipe and showing in his face 
but few marks of the terrible days through which he 
had passed was Scarlett Trent—opposite to him was 
Hiram Da Souza, the capitalist of the region. The 
Jew—of Da Souza’s nationality it was impossible to 
have any doubt—was coarse and large of his type, he 
wore soiled linen clothes and was smoking a black 
cigar. On the little finger of each hand, thickly en¬ 
crusted with dirt, was a diamond ring, on his thick, 
protruding lips a complacent smile. The concession, 
already soiled and dog-eared, was spread out before 
them. 

It was Da Souza who did most of the talking. 
Trent indeed had the appearance of a man only 
indirectly interested in the proceedings. 

“You see, my dear sir,” Da Souza was saying, “this 
little concession of yours is, after all, a very risky 


54 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


business. These niggers have absolutely no sense of 
honour. Do I not know it—alas—to my cost ? ” 

Trent listened in contemptuous silence. Da Souza 
had made a fortune trading fiery rum on the Congo 
and had probably done more to debauch the niggers he 
spoke of so bitterly than any man in Africa. 

“The Bekwando people have a bad name—very 
bad name. As for any sense of commercial honour— 
my dear Trent, one might as well expect diamonds to 
spring up like mushrooms under our feet.” 

“ The document,” Trent said, “ is signed by the 
King and witnessed by Captain Francis, who is Agent- 
General out here, or something of the sort, for the 
English Government. It was no gift and don’t you 
think it, but a piece of hard bartering. Forty bearers 
carried our presents to Bekwando and it took us three 
months to get through. There is enough in it to make 
us both millionaires. 

“ Then why,” Da Souza asked, looking up with 
twinkling eyes, “ do youw^ant to sell me a share in it?” 

“Because I haven’t a darned cent to bless myself 
with,” Trent answered curtly. “ I’ve got to have 
ready money. I’ve never had my fist on five thousand 
pounds before—no, nor five thousand pence, but, as 
I’m a living man, let me have my start and I’ll hold 
my own with you all.” 

Da Souza threw himself back in his chair with 
uplifted hands. 

“ But my dear friend,” he cried, “ my dear young 
friend, you were not thinking—do not say that you 
were thinking of asking such a sum as five thousand 
pounds for this little piece of paper ! ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


55 


The amazement, half sorrowful, half reproachful, 
on the man’s face was perfectly done. But Trent only 
snorted. 

“ That piece of paper, as you call it, cost us the hard 
savings of years, it cost us weeks and months in the 
bush and amongst the swamps—it cost a man’s life, 
not to mention the niggers we lost. Come, I’m not 
here to play skittles. Are you on for a deal or not ? 
If you’re doubtful about it I’ve another market. Say 
the word and we’ll drink and part, but if you want to 
do business, here are my terms. Five thousand for a 
sixth share! ” 

“ Sixth share,” the Jew screamed, “ sixth share?” 

Trent nodded. 

“ The thing’s worth a million at least,” he said. “ A 
sixth share is a great fortune. Don’t waste any time 
turning up the whites of your eyes at me. I’ve named 
my terms and I shan’t budge from them. You can 
lay your bottom dollar on that.” 

Da Souza took up the document and glanced it 
through once more. 

“ The concession,” he remarked, “ is granted to 
Scarlett Trent and to one Monty jointly. Who is this 
Monty, and what has he to say to it ? ” 

Trent set his teeth hard, and he never blenched. 

“ He was my partner, but he died in the swamps, 
poor chap. We had horrible weather coming back. 
It pretty near finished me.” 

Trent did not mention the fact that for four days 
and nights they were hiding in holes and up trees from 
the natives whom the King of Bekwando had sent 
after them, that their bearers had fled away, and that 


56 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


they had been compelled to leave the track and make 
their way through an unknown part of the bush. 

“ But your partner’s share,” the Jew asked. “ What 
of that ? ” 

“ It belongs to me,” Trent answered shortly. “ We 
fixed it so before we started. We neither of us took 
much stock in our relations. If I had died, Monty 
would have taken the lot. It was a fair deal. You’ll 
find it there ! ” 

The Jew nodded. 

“ And your partner?” he said. “ You saw him die 1 
There is no doubt about that ? ” 

Trent nodded. 

“ He is as dead,” he said, “ as Julius Caesar.” 

“ If I offered you-” Da Souza began. 

“ If you offered me four thousand, nine hundred and 
ninety-nine pounds,” Trent interrupted roughly, “I 
would tell you to go to glory.” 

Da Souza sighed. It was a hard man to deal with 
—this. 

“ Very well,” he said, “ if I give way, if I agree to 
your terms, you will be willing to make over this sixth 
share to me, both on your own account and on account 
of your late partner ? ” 

“ You’re right, mate,” Trent assented, * Plank 
down the brass, and it’s a deal.” 

“ I will give you four thousand pounds for a quarter 
share,” Da Souza said. 

Trent knocked the ashes from his pipe and stood up. 

“ Here, don’t waste any more of my time,” he said. 
“ Stand out of the way, I’m off.” 

Da Souza kept his hands upon the concession. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


57 


“My dear friend,” he said, “ you are so violent. 
You are so abrupt. Now listen. I will give you five 
thousand for a quarter share. It is half my fortune.” 

“ Give me the concession,” Trent said. “ I’m off.” 

“ For a fifth,” Da Souza cried. 

Trent moved to the door without speech. Da Souza 
groaned. 

“ You will ruin me,” he said, “ I know it. Come 
then, five thousand for a sixth share. It is throwing 
money away.” 

“ If you think so, you’d better not part,” Trent said, 
still lingering in the doorway. “ Just as you say. I 
don’t care.” 

For a full minute Da Souza hesitated. He had an 
immense belief in the richness of the country set out 
in the concession; he knew probably more about it 
than Trent himself. But five thousand pounds was a 
great deal of money and there was always the chance 
that the Government might not back the concession- 
holders in case of trouble. He hesitated so long that 
Trent was actually disappearing before he had made 
up his mind. 

“ Come back, Mr. Trent,” he called out. “ I have 
decided. I accept. I join with you.” 

Trent slowly returned. His manner showed no 
exultation. 

“You have the money here ? ” he asked. 

Da Souza laid down a heap of notes and gold upon 
the table. Trent counted them carefully and thrust 
them into his pocket. Then he took up a pen and 
wrote his name at the foot of the assignment which 
the Jew had prepared. 


58 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ Have a drink ? ” he asked. 

Da Sonza shook his head. 

“ The less we drink in this country,” he said, “ the 
better. I guess out here, spirits come next to poison. 
I’ll smoke with you, if you have a cigar handy.” 

Trent drew a handful of cigars from his pocket. 

“ They’re beastly,” he said, “ but it’s a beastly 
country. I’ll be glad to turn my back on it.” 

“ There is a good deal,” Da Souza said, “ which we 
must now talk about.” 

“To-morrow,” Trent said curtly. “No more now! 
I haven’t got over my miserable journey yet. I’m 
going to try and get some sleep.” 

He swung out into the heavy darkness. The air 
was thick with unwholesome odours rising from the 
lake-like swamp beyond the drooping circle of trees. 
He walked a little way towards the sea, and sat down 
upon a log. A faint land-breeze was blowing, a 
melancholy soughing came from the edge of the forest 
only a few hundred yards back, sullen, black, impene¬ 
trable. He turned his face inland unwillingly, with a 
superstitious little thrill of fear. Was it a coyotte 
calling, or had he indeed heard the moan of a dying 
man, somewhere back amongst that dark, gloomy 
jungle ? He scoffed at himself! Was he becoming as 
a girl, weak and timid ? Yet a moment later he closed 
his eyes, and pressed his hands tightly over his hot 
eyeballs. He was a man of little imaginative force, 
yet the white face of a dying man seemed suddenly to 
have floated up out of the darkness, to have come to 
him like a will-o’-the-wisp from the swamp, and the 
hollow, lifeless eyes seemed ever to be seeking his, 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


59 


mournful and eloquent with dull reproach. Trent rose 
to his feet with an oath and wiped the sweat from his 
forehead. He was trembling, and he cursed himself 
heartily. 

“ Another fool’s hour like this,” he muttered, “ and 
the fever will have me. Come out of the shadows, 
you white-faced, skulking reptile, you—bah ! what a 
blithering fool I am ! There is no one there 1 How 
could there be any one ? ” 

He listened intently. From afar off came the faint 
moaning of the wind in the forest and the night 
sounds of restless animals. Nearer there was no one 
—nothing stirred. He laughed out loud and moved 
away to spend his last night in his little wooden home. 
On the threshold he paused, and faced once more that 
black, mysterious line of forest. 

“Well, I’ve done with you now,” he cried, a note of 
coarse exultation in his tone. “ I’ve gambled for my 
life and I’ve won. To-morrow I’ll begin to spend the 
stakes.” 


CHAPTEK VII 

I N a handsomely appointed room of one of the largest 
hotels in London a man was sitting at the head 
of a table strewn with blotting-paper and writing 
materials of every description. Half a dozen chairs 
had been carelessly pushed back, there were empty 
champagne bottles upon the sideboard, the air was 
faintly odorous of tobacco smoke—blue wreaths were 
still curling upwards towards the frescoed ceiling. 
Yet the gathering had not been altogether a festive 
one. There were sheets of paper still lying about 
covered with figures, a brass-bound ledger lay open at 
the further end of the table. In the background a 
young man, slim, pale, ill-dressed in sober black, was 
filling a large tin box with documents and letters. 

It had been a meeting of giants. Men whose 
names were great in the world of finance had occupied 
those elaborately decorated leather chairs. There had 
been cynicism, criticism, and finally enthusiasm. For 
the man who remained it had been a triumph. He 
had appeared to do but little in the way of persuasion. 

His manners had been brusque, and his words had 

60 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


61 


been few. Yet he remained the master of the 
situation. He had gained a victory not only financial 
but moral, over men whose experience and knowledge 
w T ere far greater than his. He was no City magnate, 
nor had he ever received any training in those arts and 
practices which go to the making of one. For his 
earlier life had been spent in a wilder country where 
the gambling was for life and not merely for gold. It 
was Scarlett Trent who sat there in thoughtful and 
absorbed silence. He was leaning a little back in a 
comfortably upholstered chair, with his eyes fixed on a 
certain empty spot upon the table. The few inches 
of polished mahogany seemed to him—empty of all 
significance in themselves—to be reflecting in some 
mysterious manner certain scenes in his life which 
were now very rarely brought back to him. The event 
of to-day he knew to be the culmination of a success 
as rapid as it had been surprising. He was a mil¬ 
lionaire. This deal to-day, in which he had held his 
own against the shrewdest and most astute men of 
the great city, had more than doubled his already 
large fortune. A few years ago he had landed in 
England friendless and unknown, to-day he had 
stepped out from even amongst the chosen few and 
had planted his feet in the higher lands whither the 
faces of all men are turned. With a grim smile upon 
his lips, he recalled one by one the various enterprises 
into which he had entered, the courage with which he 
had forced them through, the solid strength with 
which he had thrust weaker men to the wall and had 
risen a little higher towards his goal upon the wreck 
of their fortunes. Where other men had failed he had 


62 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


succeeded. To-day the triumph was his alone. He 
' was a millionaire—one of the princes of the world ! 

The young man, who had filled his box and also a 
black bag, was ready to go. He ventured most 
respectfully to break in upon the reflections of his 
employer. 

“ Is there anything more for me to do, sir ? ” 

Trent woke from his day-dream into the present. 
He looked around the room and saw that no papers 
had been omitted. Then he glanced keenly into his 
clerk’s face. 

“ Nothing more,” he said. “ You can go.” 

It was significant of the man that, notwithstanding 
his hour of triumph, he did not depart in the slightest 
degree from the cold gruffness of his tone. The little 
speech which his clerk had prepared seemed to stick 
in his throat. 

“I trust, sir, that you will forgive—that you will 
pardon the liberty, if I presume to congratulate you 
upon such a magnificent stroke of business ! ” 

Scarlett Trent faced him coldly. “ What do you 
know about it ? ” he asked. “ What concern is it of 
yours, young man, eh ? ” 

The clerk sighed, and became a little confused. He 
had indulged in some wistful hopes that for once his 
master might have relaxed, that an opportune word 
of congratulation might awaken some spark of gene¬ 
rosity in the man who had just added a fortune to his 
great store. He had a girl-wife from whose cheeks 
the roses were slowly fading, and very soon would 
come a time when a bank-note, even the smallest, 
would be a priceless gift. It was for her sake he 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTERDAY 


63 


had spoken. He saw now that he had made a 
mistake. 

“I am very sorry, sir,” he said humbly. “ Of 
course I know that these men have paid an immense 
sum for their shares in the Bekwando Syndicate. At 
the same time it is not my business, and I am sorry 
that I spoke.” 

“It is not your business at any time to remember 
what I receive for properties,” Scarlett Trent said 
roughly. “ Haven’t I told you that before ? What 
did I say when you came to me ? You were to hear 
nothing and see nothing outside your duties ! Speak 
up, man ! Don’t stand there like a jay ! ” 

The clerk was pale, and there was an odd sensation 
in his throat. But he thought of his girl-wife and he 
pulled himself together. 

“ You are quite right, sir,” he said. “ To any one 
else I should never have mentioned it. But we were 
alone, and I thought that the circumstances might 
make it excusable.” 

His employer grunted in an ominous manner. 

“ When I say forget, I mean forget,” he declared. 
“ I don’t want to be reminded by you of my own 
business. D’ye think I don’t know it?” 

“ I am very sure that you do, sir,” the clerk 
answered humbly. “ I quite see that my allusion 
was an error.” 

Scarlett Trent had turned round in his chair, and 
was eying the pale, nervous figure with a certain hard 
disapproval. 

“ That’s a beastly coat you’ve got on, Dickenson,” 
he said. “ Why don’t you get a new one ? ” 


64 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“I am standing in a strong light, sir,” the young 
man answered, with a new fear at his heart. “ It 
wants brushing, too. I will endeavour to get a new 
one—very shortly.” 

His employer grunted again. 

“ What’s your salary ? ” he asked. 

“ Two pounds fifteen shillings a week, sir.” 

“ And you mean to say that you can’t dress respect¬ 
ably on that? What do you do with your money, 
eh ? How do you spend it ? Drink and music-halls, 
I suppose! ” 

The young man was able at last to find some spark 
of dignity. A pink spot burned upon his cheeks. 

“ I do not attend music-halls, sir, nor have I touched 
wine or spirits for years. I—I have a wife to keep, 
and perhaps—I am expecting ” 

He stopped abruptly. How could he mention that 
other matter which, for all its anxieties, still possessed 
for him a sort of quickening joy in the face of that 
brutal stare. He did not conclude his sentence, the 
momentary light died out of his pale commonplace 
features. He hung his head and was silent. 

“A wife,” Scarlett Trent repeated with contempt, 
“ and all the rest of it of course. Oh, what poor 
donkeys you young men are ! Here are you, with your 
way to make in the world, with your foot scarcely upon 
the bottom rung of the ladder, grubbing along on a few 
bob a week, and you choose to go and chuck away every 
chance you ever might have for a moment’s folly. A 
poor, pretty face I suppose. A moonlight walk on a 
Bank Holiday, a little maudlin sentiment, and over you 
throw all your chances in life. No wonder the herd is 



A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


65 


so great, and the leaders so few,’* he added, with a 
sneer. 

The young man raised his head. Once more the 
pink spot was burning. Yet how hard to be dignified 
with the man from whom comes one’s daily bread. 

“ You are mistaken, sir,” he said. “ I am quite 
happy and quite satisfied.” 

Scarlett Trent laughed scornfully. 

“ Then you don’t look it,” he exclaimed. 

“ I may not, sir,” the young man continued, with a 
desperate courage, “but I am. After all happiness is 
spelt with different letters for all of us. You have 
denied yourself—worked hard, carried many burdens 
and run great risks to become a millionaire. I too have 
denied myself, have worked and struggled to make a 
home for the girl I cared for. You have succeeded and 
you are happy. I can hold Edith’s—I beg your pardon, 
my wife’s hand in mine and I am happy. I have no 
ambition to be a millionaire. I was very ambitious to 
win my wife.” 

Scarlett Trent looked at him for a moment open- 
mouthed and open-eyed. Then he laughed outright 
and a chill load fell from the heart of the man who 
for a moment had forgotten himself. The laugh was 
scornful perhaps, but it was not angry. 

“Well, you’ve shut me up,” he declared. “You 
seem a poor sort of a creature to me, but if you’re 
content, it’s no business of mine. Here buy yourself 
an overcoat, and drink a glass of wine. I’m off! ” 

He rose from his seat and threw a bank-note over the 
table. The clerk opened it and handed it back with a 
little start. 


5 


66 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“I am much obliged to you, sir,” he said humbly, 
“ but you have made a mistake. This note is for fifty 
pounds.” 

Trent glanced at it and held out his hand. Then he 

paused. 

“ Never mind,” he said, with a short laugh, “ I meant 
to give you a fiver, but it don’t make much odds. Only 
see that you buy some new clothes.” 

The clerk half closed his eyes and steadied himself 
by grasping the back of a chair. There was a lump in 
his throat in earnest now. 

“You—you mean it, sir?” he gasped. “I—I’m 
afraid I can’t thank you ! ” 

“Don’t try, unless you want me to take it back,” 
Trent said, strolling to the sideboard. “ Lord, how 
those City chaps can guzzle ! Not a drop of champagne 
left. Two unopened bottles though ! Here, stick ’em 
in your bag and take ’em to the missis, young man. I 
paid for the lot, so there’s no use leaving any. Now 
clear out as quick as you can. I’m off! ” 

“ You will allow me, sir-” 

Scarlett Trent closed the door with a slam and dis¬ 
appeared. The young man passed him a few moments 
later as he stood on the steps of the hotel lighting a 
cigar. He paused again, intent on stammering out 
some words of thanks. Trent turned his back upon 
him coldly. 




CHAPTER VIII 

rnRENT, on leaving the hotel, turned for almost 
the first time in his life westwards. For years 
the narrow alleys, the thronged streets, the great build¬ 
ings of the City had known him day by day, almost 
hour by hour. Its roar and clamour, the strife of 
tongues and keen measuring of wits had been the salt 
of his life. Steadily, sturdily, almost insolently, he had 
thrust his way through to the front ranks. In many 
respects those were singular and unusual elements 
which had gone to the making of his success. His had 
not been the victory of honied falsehoods, of suave 
deceit, of gentle but legalised robbery. He had been a 
hard worker, a daring speculator with nerves of iron, 
and courage which would have glorified a nobler cause. 
Nor had his been the methods of good fellowship, 
the sharing of “ good turns,” the camaraderie of 
finance. The men with whom he had had large 
dealings he had treated as enemies rather than friends, 
ever watching them covertly with close but unslacken¬ 
ing vigilance. And now, for the present at any rate, it 
was all over. There had come a pause in his life. His 
back was to the City and his face was set towards an 

67 


68 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTEBDAY 


unknown world. Half unconsciously he had under¬ 
taken a little voyage of exploration. 

From the Strand he crossed Trafalgar Square into 
Pall Mall, and up the Haymarket into Piccadilly. He 
was very soon aware that he had wandered into a world 
whose ways were not his ways and with whom he had 
no kinship. Yet he set himself sedulously to observe 
them, conscious that what he saw represented a very 
large side of life. From the first he was aware of a 
certain difference in himself and his ways. The 
careless glance of a lounger on the pavement of Pall 
Mall filled him with a sudden anger. The man was 
wearing gloves, an article of dress which Trent ignored, 
and smoking a cigarette, which he loathed. Trent was 
carelessly dressed in a tweed suit and red tie, his critic 
wore a silk hat and frock coat, patent-leather boots, 
and a dark tie of invisible pattern. Yet Trent knew 
that he was a type of that class which would look upon 
him as an outsider, and a black sheep, until he had 
bought his standing. They would expect him to con¬ 
form to their type, to learn to speak their jargon, to 
think with their puny brains and to see with their 
short-sighted eyes. At the “Criterion” he turned in 
and had a drink, and, bolder for the wine which 
he had swallowed at a gulp, he told himself that 
he would do nothing of the sort. He would not 
alter a jot. They must take him as he was, or 
leave him. He suffered his thoughts to dwell for a 
moment upon his wealth, on the years which had gone 
to the winning of it, on a certain nameless day, the 
memory of which even now sent sometimes the blood 
running colder through his veins, on the weaker men 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


69 


who had gone under that he might prosper. Now that 
it was his, he wanted the best possible value for it; it 
was the natural desire of the man to be uppermost in 
the bargain. The delights of the world behind, it 
seemed to him that he had already drained. The 
crushing of his rivals, the homage of his less successful 
competitors, the grosser pleasures of wine, the music- 
halls, and the unlimited spending of money amongst 
people whom he despised had long since palled upon 
him. He had a keen, strong desire to escape once and 
for ever from his surroundings. He lounged along, 
smoking a large cigar, keen-eyed and observant, laying 
up for himself a store of impressions, unconsciously 
irritated at every step by a sense of ostracism, of being 
in some indefinable manner without kinship and wholly 
apart from this world, in which it seemed natural now 
that he should find some place. He gazed at the great 
houses without respect or envy, at the men with a 
fierce contempt, at the women with a sore feeling that 
if by chance he should be brought into contact with 
any of them they would regard him as a sort of wild 
animal, to be humoured or avoided purely as a matter 
of self-interest. The very brightness and brilliancy of 
their toilettes, the rustling of their dresses, the trim 
elegance and daintiness which he was able to appre¬ 
ciate without being able to understand, only served to 
deepen his consciousness of the gulf which lay between 
him and them. They were of a world to which, even 
if he were permitted to enter it, he could not possibly 
belong. He returned such glances as fell upon him 
with fierce insolence ; he was indeed somewhat of a 
strange figure in his ill-fitting and inappropriate clothes 


70 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


amongst a gathering of smart people. A lady looking 
at him through raised lorgnettes turned and whispered 
something with a smile to her companion—once before 
he had heard an audible titter from a little group of 
loiterers. He returned the glance with a lightning-like 
look of diabolical fierceness, and, turning round, stood 
upon the curbstone and called a hansom. 

A sense of depression swept over him as he was 
driven through the crowded streets towards Waterloo. 
The half-scornful, half-earnest prophecy, to which he 
had listened years ago in a squalid African hut, flashed 
into his mind. For the first time he began to have 
dim apprehensions as to his future. All his life he 
had been a toiler, and joy had been with him in the 
fierce combat which he had waged day by day. He had 
fought his battle and he had won—where were the 
fruits of his victory'? A puny, miserable little creature 
like Dickenson could prate of happiness and turn a 
shining face to the future—Dickenson who lived upon 
a pittance, who depended upon the whim of his 
employer, and who confessed to ambitions which 
were surely pitiable. Trent lit a fresh cigar and 
smiled; things would surely come right with him— 
they must. What Dickenson could gain was surely 
his by right a thousand times over. 

He took the train for Walton, travelling first class, 
and treated with much deference by the officials on the 
line. As he alighted and passed through the booking- 
hall into the station-yard a voice hailed him. He 
looked up sharply. A carriage and pair of horses 
was waiting, and inside a young woman with a very 
smart hat and a profusion of yellow hair. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


71 


“ Come on, General,” she cried. “ I’ve done a skip 
and driven down to meet you. Such jokes when they 
miss me. The old lady will be as sick as they make 
’em. Can’t we have a drive round for an hour, eh ? ” 

Her voice was high-pitched and penetrating. 
Listening to it Trent unconsciously compared it with 
the voices of the women of that other world into which 
he had wandered earlier in the afternoon. He turned 
a frowning face towards her. 

“ You might have spared yourself the trouble,” he 
said shortly. “ I didn’t order a carriage to meet me 
and I don’t want one. I am going to walk home.” 

She tossed her head. 

“What a beastly temper you’re in!” she remarked. 
“ I’m not particular about driving. Do you want to 
walk alone?” 

“ Exactly! ” he answered. “ I do ! ” 

She leaned back in the carriage with heightened 
colour. 

“ Well, there’s one thing about me,” she said acidly. 
“ I never go where I ain’t wanted.” 

Trent shrugged his shoulders and turned to the 
coachman. 

“ Drive home, Gregg,” he said. “I’m walking.” 

The man touched his hat, the carriage drove off, and 
Trent, with a grim smile upon his lips, walked along 
the dusty road. Soon he paused before a little white 
gate marked private, and, unlocking it with a key which 
he took from his pocket, passed through a little planta¬ 
tion into a large park-like field. He took off his hat 
and fanned himself thoughtfully as he walked. The 
one taste which his long and absorbing struggle with 


72 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


the giants of Capel Court had never weakened was his 
love for the country. He lifted his head to taste the 
breeze which came sweeping across from the Surrey 
Downs, keenly relishing the fragrance of the new-mown 
hay and the faint odour of pines from the distant dark- 
crested hill. As he came up the field towards the house 
he looked with pleasure upon the great bed of gorgeous- 
coloured rhododendrons which bordered his lawn, the 
dark cedars which drooped over the smooth shaven 
grass, and the faint flush of colour from the rose- 
gardens beyond. The house itself was small, but 
picturesque. It was a grey stone building of two 
stories only, and from where he was seemed completely 
embowered in flowers and creepers. In a way, he 
thought, he would be sorry to leave it. It had been a 
pleasant summer-house for him, although of course it 
was no fit dwelling-house for a millionaire. He must 
look out for something at once now—a country house 
and estate. All these things would come as a matter 
of course. 

He opened another gate and passed into an inner 
plantation of pines and shrubs which bordered the 
grounds. A winding path led through it, and, coming 
round a bend, he stopped short with a little exclama¬ 
tion. A girl was standing with her back to him rapidly 
sketching upon a little block which she had in her left 
hand. 

“ Hullo ! ” he remarked, “ another guest! and who 
brought you down, young lady, eh ? ” 

She turned slowly round and looked at him in cold 
surprise. Trent knew at once that he had made a 
mistake. She was plainly dressed in white linen and 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


73 


a cool muslin blouse, but there was something about 
her, unmistakable even to Trent, which placed her very- 
far apart indeed from any woman likely to have become 
his unbidden guest. He knew at once that she was 
one of that class with whom he had never had any 
association. She was the first lady whom he had ever 
addressed, and he could have bitten out his tongue 
when he remembered the form of his doing so. 

“ I beg your pardon, miss,” he said confusedly, “ my 
mistake ! You see, your back was turned to me.” 

She nodded and smiled graciously. 

“ If you are Mr. Scarlett Trent,” she said, “ it is I 
who should apologise, for I am a flagrant trespasser. 
You must let me explain.” 


CHAPTER IX 


T HE girl had moved a step towards him as she 
spoke, and a gleam of sunlight which had found 
its way into the grove flashed for a moment on the 
stray little curls of her brown-gold hair and across her 
face. Her lips were parted in a delightful smile; she 
was very pretty, and inclined to be apologetic. But 
Scarlett Trent had seen nothing save that first glance 
when the sun had touched her face with fire. A strong 
man at all times, and more than commonly self- 
masterful, he felt himself now as helpless as a child. 
A sudden pallor had whitened his face to the lips, there 
were strange singings in his ears, and a mist before his 
eyes. It was she! There was no possibility of any 
mistake. It was the girl for whose picture he had 
gambled in the hut at Bekwando—Monty’s baby-girl, 
of whom he had babbled even in death. He leaned 
against a tree, stricken dumb, and she was frightened. 

“ You are ill,” she cried. “ I’m so sorry. Let me 
run to the house and fetch some one! ” 

He had strength enough to stop her. A few deep 
breaths and he was himself again, shaken and with a 
heart beating like a steam-engine, but able at least to 
talk intelligently. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


75 


“ I’m sorry—didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said. 
“ It’s the heat. I get an attack like this sometimes. 
Yes, I’m Mr. Trent. I don’t know what you’re doing 
here, but you’re welcome.” 

“ How nice of you to say so! ” she answered brightly. 
“But then perhaps you’ll change your mind when you 
know what I have been doing.” 

He laughed shortly. 

“ Nothing terrible, I should say. “ Looks as though 
you’ve been making a picture of my house ; I don’t 
mind that.” 

She dived in her pocket and produced a card-case. 

“ I’ll make full confession,” she said frankly. “ I’m 
a journalist.” 

“ A what! ” he repeated feebly. 

“ A journalist. I’m on the Hour. This isn’t my 
work as a rule ; but the man who should have come is 
ill, and his junior can’t sketch, so they sent me! Don’t 
look as though I were a ghost, please. Haven’t you 
ever heard of a girl journalist before ? ” 

“ Never,” he answered emphatically. “ I didn’t know 
that ladies did such things ! ” 

She laughed gaily but softly; and Trent understood 
then what was meant by the music of a woman’s 
voice. 

“ Oh, it’s not at all an uncommon thing,” she 
answered him. “ You won’t mind my interviewing 
you, will you?” 

“ Doing what ? ” he asked blankly. 

“ Interviewing you! That’s what I’ve come for, 
you know; and we want a little sketch of your house 
for the paper. I know you don’t like it. I hear you’ve 


76 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


been awfully rude to poor little Morrison of the Post; 
but I’ll be very careful what I say, and very quick.” 

He stood looking at her, a dazed and bewildered 
man. From the trim little hat, with its white band 
and jaunty bunch of cornflowers, to the well-shaped 
patent shoes, she was neatly and daintily dressed. A 
journalist! He gazed once more into her face, at the 
brown eyes watching him now a little anxiously, the 
mouth with the humorous twitch at the corner of her 
lips. The little wisps of hair flashed again in the sun¬ 
light. It was she ! He had found her. 

She took his silence for hesitation, and continued a 
little anxiously. 

“ I really won’t ask you many questions, and it 
would do me quite a lot of good to get an interview 
with you. Of course I oughtn’t to have begun this 
sketch without permission. If you mind that, I’ll 
give it up.” 

He found his tongue awkwardly, but vigorously. 

“ You can sketch just as long as ever you please, and 
make what use of it you like,” he said. “ It’s only a 
bit of a place though ! ” 

“ How nice of you ! And the interview ? ” 

“ I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” he said 
quietly. 

She could scarcely believe in her good fortune, 
especially when she remembered the description of 
the man which one of the staff had given. He was 
gruff, vulgar, ill-tempered; the chief ought to be 
kicked for letting her go near him ! This was what 
she had been told. She laughed softly to herself. 

“It is very good indeed of you, Mr. Trent,” she 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTEBDAY 


77 


said earnestly. “ I was quite nervous about coming, 
for I had no idea that you would be so kind. Shall I 
finish my sketch first, and then perhaps you will be 
able to spare me a few minutes for the interview ? ” 

“Just as you like,” he answered. “ May I look at 
it ? ” 

“ Certainly,” she answered, holding out the block; 
“ but it isn’t half finished yet.” 

“Will it take long?” 

“About an hour, I think.” 

“ You are very clever,” he said, with a little sigh. 

She laughed outright. 

“ People are calling you the cleverest man in London 
to-day,” she said. 

“Pshaw! It isn’t the cleverness that counts for 
anything that makes money.” 

Then he set his teeth hard together and swore 
vigorously but silently. She had become suddenly 
interested in her work. A shrill burst of laughter 
from the lawn in front had rung sharply out, startling 
them both. A young woman with fluffy hair and in 
a pale blue dinner-dress was dancing to an unseen 
audience. Trent’s eyes flashed with anger, and his 
cheeks burned. The dance was a music-hall one, and 
the gestures were not refined. Before he could stop 
himself an oath had broken from his lips. After that 
he dared not even glance at the girl by his side. 

“I’m very sorry,” he muttered. * I’ll stop that 
right away.” 

“ You mustn’t disturb your friends on my account,” 
she said quietly. She did not look up, but Trent felt 
keenly the alteration in her manner. 


78 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ They’re not my friends,” he exclaimed passionately 
“ I’ll clear them out neck and crop.” 

She looked up for a moment, surprised at his sudden 
vehemence. There was no doubt about his being in 
earnest. She continued her work without looking at 
him, but her tone when she spoke was more friendly. 

“ This will take me a little longer than I thought to 
finish properly,” she said. “ I wonder might I come 
down early to-morrow morning ? What time do you 
leave for the City ? ” 

“Not until afternoon, at any rate,” he said. “ Come 
to-morrow, certainly — whenever you like. You 
needn’t be afraid of that rabble. I’ll see you don’t 
have to go near them.” 

“ You must please not make any difference or alter 
your arrangements on my account,” she said. “ I am 
quite used to meeting all sorts of people in my profes¬ 
sion, and I don’t object to it in the least. Won’t you 
go now? I think that that was your dinner-bell.” 

He hesitated, obviously embarrassed but determined. 

“ There is one question,” he said, “ which I should 
very much like to ask you. It will sound impertinent. 
I don’t mean it so. I can’t explain exactly why I want 
to know, but I have a reason.” 

“ Ask it by all means,” she said. “ I’ll promise that 
I’ll answer it if I can.” 

“ You say that you are—a journalist. Have you 
taken it up for a pastime, or—to earn money?” 

“ To earn money by all means,” she answered, 
laughing. “ I like the work, but I shouldn’t care for 
it half so much if I didn’t make my living at it. Did 
you think that I was an amateur ? ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


79 


" I didn’t know,” he answered slowly. “ Thank 
you. You will come to-morrow ? ” 

“ Of course ! Good evening.” 

“ Good evening.” 

Trent lifted his hat, and turned away unwillingly 
towards the house, full of a sense that something 
wonderful had happened to him. He was absent- 
minded, but he stopped to pat a little dog whose 
attentions he usually ignored, and he picked a creamy- 
white rose as he crossed the lawn and wondered why it 
should remind him of her. 


CHAPTER X 


T RENT’S appearance upon the lawn was greeted 
with a shout of enthusiasm. The young lady in 
blue executed a pas seul, and came across to him on 
her toes, and the girl with the yellow hair, although 
sulky, gave him to understand by a sidelong glance 
that her favour was not permanently withdrawn. 
They neither of them noticed the somewhat ominous 
air of civility with which he received their greetings, 
or the contempt in his eyes as he looked them silently 
over. 

“Where are the lost tribe?” he inquired, as the 
girls, one on either side, escorted him to the house. 

They received his witticism with a piercing shriek 
of laughter. 

“ Mamma and her rag of a daughter are in the 
drawing-room,” explained Miss Montressor — the 
young lady with fluffy hair who dressed in blue and 
could dance. “ Such a joke, General! They don’t 
approve of us! Mamma says that she shall have to 
take her Julie away if we remain. We are not fit 
associates for her. Rich, isn’t it! The old chap’s 
screwing up his courage now with brandy and soda 
to tell you so! ” 


60 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


81 


Trent laughed heartily. The situation began to 
appeal to him. There was humour in it which he 
alone could appreciate. 

“Does he expect me to send you away?” he 
asked. 

“ That’s a cert! ” Miss Montressor affirmed. “ The 
old woman’s been playing the respectable all day, 
turning up the whites of her eyes at me because I 
did a high kick in the hall, and groaning at Flossie 
because she had a few brandies; ain’t that so, 
Flossie ? ” 

The young lady with yellow hair confirmed the 
statement with much dignity. 

“I had a toothache,” she said, “ and Mrs. Da Souza, 
or whatever the old cat calls herself, was most rude. 
I reckon myself as respectable as she is any day, 
dragging that yellow-faced daughter of hers about with 
her and throwing her at men’s heads.” 

Miss Montressor, who had stopped to pick a flower, 
rejoined them. 

“I say, General,” she remarked, “fair’s fair, and a 
promise is a promise. We didn’t come down here to 
be made fools of by a fat old Jewess. You won’t send 
us away because of the old wretch ? ” 

“I promise,” said Trent, “that when she goes you 
go, and not before. Is that sufficient ? ” 

“ Right oh ! ” the young lady declared cheerfully. 
“ Now you go and prink up for dinner. We’re ready, 
Flossie and I. The little Jew girl’s got a new dress— 
black covered with sequins. It makes her look 
yellower than ever. There goes the bell, and we’re 
both as hungry as hunters. Look sharp ! ” 

6 


82 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Trent entered the house. Da Souza met him in the 
hall, sleek, curly, and resplendent in a black dinner- 
suit. The years had dealt lightly with him, or else 
the climate of England was kinder to his yellow skin 
than the moist heat of the Gold Coast. He greeted 
Trent with a heartiness which was partly tentative, 
partly boisterous. 

“ Back from the coining of the shekels, my dear 
friend,” he exclaimed. “Back from the spoiling of the 
Egyptians, eh ? How was money to-day ? ” 

“ An eighth easier,” Trent answered, ascending the 
stairs. 

Da Souza fidgeted about with the banisters, and 
finally followed him. 

“There was just a word,” he remarked, “a little 
word I wanted with you.” 

“ Come and talk while I wash,” Trent said shortly. 
“Dinner’s on, and I’m hungry.” 

“ Certainly, certainly,” Da Souza murmured, closing 
the door behind them as they entered the lavatory. 
“It is concerning these young ladies.” 

“ What! Miss Montressor and her friend?” Trent 
remarked thrusting his head into the cold water. 
“Phew!” 

“ Exactly! Two very charming young ladies, my 
dear friend, very charming indeed, but a little—don’t 
you fancy just a little fast! ” 

“ Hadn’t noticed it,” Trent answered, drying himself. 
“ What about it ? ” 

Da Souza tugged at his little black imperial, and 
moved uneasily about. 

“We—er—men of the world, my dear Trent, we 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


83 


need not be so particular, eh ?—but the ladies—the 
ladies are so observant.” 

“ What ladies? ” Trent asked coolly. 

“It is my wife who has been talking to me,” Da 
Souza continued. “You see, Julie is so young—our 
dear daughter she is but a child ; and, as my wife says, 
we cannot be too particular, too careful, eh; you 
understand! ” 

“ You want them to go ? Is that it ? ” 

Da Souza spread out his hands—an old trick, only 
now the palms were white and the diamonds real. 

“ For myself,” he declared, “ I find them charming. 
It is my wife who says to me, * Hiram, those young 
persons, they are not fit company for our dear, 
innocent Julie! You shall speak to Mr. Trent. He 
will understand ! * Eh ? ” 

Trent had finished his toilet and stood, the hair¬ 
brushes still in his hands, looking at Da Souza’s 
anxious face with a queer smile upon his lips. 

“Yes, I understand, Da Souza,” he said. “ No doubt 
you are right, you cannot be too careful. You do well 
to be particular.” 

Da Souza winced. He was about to speak, but Trent 
interrupted him. 

“ Well, I’ll tell you this, and you can let the missis 
know, my fond father. They leave to-morrow. Is 
that good enough?” 

Da Souza caught at his host’s hand, but Trent 
snatched it away. 

“ My dear—my noble-” 

“ Here, shut up and don’t paw me,” Trent inter¬ 
rupted. “ Mind, not a word of this to any one but your 



84 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


wife ; the girls don’t know they’re going themselves 
yet.” 

They entered the dining-room, where every one else 
was already assembled. Mrs. Da Sonza, a Jewess 
portly and typical, resplendent in black satin and many 
gold chains and bangles, occupied the seat of honour, 
and by her side was a little brown girl, with dark, 
timid eyes and dusky complexion, pitiably over-dressed 
but with a certain elf-like beauty, which it was hard to 
believe that she could ever have inherited. Miss 
Montressor and her friend sat on either side of their 
host—an arrangement which Mrs. Da Souza lamented, 
but found herself powerless to prevent, and her husband 
took the vacant place. Dinner was served, and with 
the opening of the champagne, which was not long 
delayed, tongues were loosened. 

“ It was very hot in the City to-day,” Mrs. Da Souza 
remarked to her host. “ Dear Julie was saying what 
a shame it seemed that you should be there and we 
should be enjoying your beautiful gardens. She is so 
thoughtful, so sympathetic ! Dear girl! ” 

“ Very kind of your daughter,” Trent answered, look¬ 
ing directly at her and rather inclined to pity her 
obvious shyness. “ Come, drink up, Da Souza, drink 
up, girls ! I’ve had a hard day and I want to forget 
for a bit that there’s any such thing as work.” 

Miss Montressor raised her glass and winked at her 
host. 

“ It don’t take much drinking, this, General,” she 
remarked, cheerily draining her glass ! “ Different to 

the ‘ pop ’ they give us down at the ‘ Star,’ eh, Flossie ? 
Good old gooseberry I call that ! ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


85 


** Da Souza, look after Miss Flossie,” Trent said. 
“ Why don’t you fill her glass ? That’s right! ” 

“ Hiram ! ” 

Da Souza removed his hand from the back of his 
neighbour’s chair and endeavoured to look unconscious. 
The girl tittered—Mrs. Da Souza was severely dignified. 
Trent watched them all, half in amusement, half in 
disgust. What a pandemonium ! It was time indeed 
for him to get rid of them all. From where he sat he 
could see across the lawn into the little pine plantation. 
It was still light—if she could look in at the open 
window what would she think ? His cheeks burned, 
and he thrust the hand which was seeking his under 
the table savagely away. And then an idea flashed in 
upon him—a magnificent, irresistible idea. He drank 
off a glass of champagne and laughed loud and long at 
one of his neighbour’s silly sayings. It was a glorious 
joke ! The more he thought of it, the more he liked it. 
He called for more champagne, and all, save the little 
brown girl, greeted the magnum which presently 
appeared with cheers. Even Mrs. Da Souza unbent 
a little towards the young women against whom she 
had declared war. Faces were flushed and voices grew 
a little thick. Da Souza’s arm unchidden sought once 
more the back of his neighbour’s chair, Miss Mon- 
tressor’s eyes did their utmost to win a tender glance 
from their lavish host. Suddenly Trent rose to his 
feet. He held a glass high over his head. His face 
was curiously unmoved, but his lips were parted in an 
enigmatic smile. 

“ A toast, my friends ! ” he cried. “ Fill up, the lot of 
you! Come ! To our next meeting! May fortune 


86 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


soon smile again, and may I have another home before 
long as worthy a resting-place for you as this ! ” 

Bewilderment reigned. No one offered to drink the 
toast. It was Miss Montressor who asked the question 
which was on every one’s lips. 

“ What’s up ? ” she exclaimed. “ What’s the matter 
with our next meeting here to-morrow night, and 
what’s all that rot about your next home and for¬ 
tune ? ” 

Trent looked at them all in well-simulated amaze¬ 
ment. 

“ Lord ! ” he exclaimed, “ you don’t know—none of 
you ! I thought Da Souza would have told you the 
news! ” 

“Whatnews?” Da Souza cried, his beady eyes pro¬ 
tuberant, and his glass arrested half-way to his mouth. 

“ What are you talking about, my friend ? ” 

Trent set down his glass. 

“ My friends,” he said unsteadily, “let me explain 
to you, as shortly as I can, what an uncertain position 
is that of a great financier.” 

Da Souza leaned across the table. His face was livid, 
and the corners of his eyes were bloodshot. 

“ I thought there was something up,” he muttered. 
“ You would not have me come into the City this morn¬ 
ing. D-n it, you don’t mean that you-” 

“ I’m bust!” Trent said roughly. “Is that plain 
enough? I’ve been bulling on West Australians, and 
they boomed and this afternoon the Government 
decided not to back us at Bekwando, and the mines 
are to be shut down. Tell you all about it if you like.” 

No one wanted to hear all about it. They shrunk 




A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


87 


from him as though he were a robber. Only the little 
brown girl was sorry, and she looked at him with dark, 
soft eyes. 

“ I’ve given a bill of sale here,” Trent continued. 
“ They’ll be round to-morrow. Better pack to-night. 
These valuers are such robbers. Come, another bottle ! 
It’ll all have to be sold. We’ll make a night of it.” 

Mrs. Da Souza rose and swept from the room—Da 
Souza had fallen forward with his head upon his hands. 
Ho was only half sober, but the shock was working 
like madness in his brain. The two girls, after 
whispering together for a moment, rose and followed 
Mrs. Da Souza. Trent stole from his place and out 
into the garden. With footsteps which were steady 
enough now he crossed the velvety lawns, and plunged 
into the shrubbery. Then he began to laugh softly as 
he walked. They were all duped ! They had accepted 
his story without the slightest question. He leaned 
over the gate which led into the little plantation, and 
he was suddenly grave and silent. A night-wind was 
blowing fragrant and cool. The dark boughs of the 
trees waved to and fro against the background of deep 
blue sky. The lime leaves rustled softly, the perfume 
of roses came floating across from the flower-gardens. 
Trent stood quite still, listening and thinking. 

“ God ! what a beast I am ! ” he muttered. “ It was 
there she sat! I’m not fit to breathe the same air.” 

He looked back towards the house. The figures of 
the two girls, with Da Souza standing now between 
them, were silhouetted against the window. His face 
grew dark and fierce. 

“Baugh!” he exclaimed, “ what a kennel I have 


88 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


made of my house ! What a low-down thing I have 
begun to make of life ! Yet—I was a beggar—and 
I am a millionaire. Is it harder to change oneself? 
To-morrow ”—he looked hard at the place where she 
had sat—“ to-morrow I will ask her ! ” 

On his way back to the house a little cloaked figure 
stepped out from behind a shrub. He looked at her in 
amazement. It was the little brown girl, and her eyes 
were wet with tears. 

“Listen,” she said quickly. “I have been waiting 
to speak to you ! I want to say goodbye and to thank 
you. I am very, very sorry, and I hope that some day 
very soon you will make some more money and be 
happy again.” 

Her lips were quivering. A single glance into her 
face assured him of her honesty. He took the hand 
which she held out and pressed her fingers. 

“ Little Julie,” he said, “ you are a brick. Don’t 
you bother about me. It isn’t quite so bad as I made 
out—only don’t tell your mother that.” 

“I’m very glad,” she murmured. “ I think that it 
is hateful of them all to rush away, and I made up my 
mind to say goodbye however angry it made them. 
Let me go now, please. I want to get back before 
mamma misses me.” 

He passed his arm around her tiny waist. She 
looked at him with frightened eyes. 

“ Please let me go,” she murmured. 

He kissed her lips, and a moment afterwards vaguely 
repented it. She buried her face in her hands and ran 
away sobbing. Trent lit a cigar and sat down upon a 
garden seat. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ It’s a queer thing,” he said reflectingly. “ The 
girl’s been thrown repeatedly at my head for a week 
and I might have kissed her at any moment, before 
her father and mother if I had liked, and they’d have 
thanked me. Now I’ve done it I’m sorry. She looked 
prettier than I’ve ever seen her too—and she’s the only 
decent one of the lot. Lord! what a hubbub there’ll 
be in the morning ! ” 

The stars came out and the moon rose, and still 
Scarlett Trent lingered in the scented darkness. He 
was a man of limited imagination and little given to 
superstitions. Yet that night there came to him a 
presentiment. He felt that he was on the threshold of 
great events. Something new in life was looming up 
before him. He had cut himself adrift from the old— 
it was a very wonderful and a very beautiful figure 
which was beckoning him to follow in other paths. 
The triumph of the earlier part of the day seemed to 
lie far back in a misty and unimportant past. There 
was a new world and a greater, if fortune willed that 
he should enter it. 


CHAPTER XI 

T RENT was awakened next morning by the sound 
of carriage wheels in the drive below. He rang 
his bell at once. After a few moments’ delay it was 
answered by one of his two men-servants. 

“ Whose carriage is that in the drive? ” he asked. 

“ It is a fly for Mr. Da Souza, sir.” 

“ What! has he gone ? ” Trent exclaimed. 

“ Yes, sir, he and Mrs. Da Souza and the young 
lady.” 

“ And Miss Montressor and her friend? ” 

“ They shared the fly, sir. The luggage all went 
down in one of the carts.” 

Trent laughed outright, half scornfully, half in 
amusement. 

“ Listen, Mason,” he said, as the sound of wheels 
died away. “ If any of those people come back again 
they are not to be admitted—do you hear? if they 
bring their luggage you are not to take it in. If they 
come themselves you are not to allow them to enter 
the house. You understand that ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Very good! Now prepare my bath at once, and 
tell the cook, breakfast in half an hour. Let her know 

90 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


91 


that I am hungry. Breakfast for one, mind! Those 
fools who have just left will get a morning paper at the 
station and they may come back. Be on the look-out 
for them and let the other servants know. Better have 
the lodge gate locked.” 

“ Very good, sir.” 

The man who had been lamenting the loss of an easy 
situation and possibly even a month’s wages, hastened 
to spread more reassuring news in the lower regions. 
It was a practical joke of the governor’s—very likely 
a ruse to get rid of guests who had certainly been 
behaving as though the Lodge was their permanent 
home. There was a chorus of thanksgiving. Groves, 
the butler, who read the money articles in the Standard 
every morning with solemn interest and who was 
suspected of investments, announced that from what 
he could make out the governor must have landed a 
tidy little lump yesterday. Whereupon the cook set to 
work to prepare a breakfast worthy of the occasion. 

Trent had awakened with a keen sense of anticipated 
pleasure. A new and delightful interest had entered 
into his life. It is true that, at times, it needed all his 
strength of mind to keep his thoughts from wandering 
back into that unprofitable and most distasteful past— 
in the middle of the night even, he had woke up 
suddenly with an old man’s cry in his ears—or was it 
the whispering of the night-wind in the tall elms ? But 
he was not of an imaginative nature. He felt himself 
strong enough to set his heel wholly upon all those 
memories. If he had not erred on the side of 
generosity, he had at least played the game fairly. 
Monty, if he had lived, could only have been a dis- 



92 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


appointment and a humiliation. The picture was 
hers—of that he had no doubt! Even then he was 
not sure that Monty was her father. In any case 
she would never know. He recognised no obligation 
on his part to broach the subject. The man had done 
his best to cut himself altogether adrift from his former 
life. His reasons doubtless had been sufficient. It 
was not necessary to pry into them—it might even be 
unkindness. The picture, which no man save himself 
had ever seen, was the only possible link between the 
past and the present—between Scarlett Trent and his 
drunken old partner, starved and fever-stricken, making 
their desperate effort for wealth in unknown Africa, 
and the millionaire of to-day. The picture remained 
his dearest possession—but, save his own, no other 
eyes had ever beheld it. 

He dressed with more care than usual, and much 
less satisfaction. He was a man who rather prided 
himself upon neglecting his appearance, and, so far as 
the cut and pattern of his clothes went, he usually 
suggested the artisan out for a holiday. To-day for 
the first time he regarded his toilet with critical and 
disparaging eyes. He found the pattern of his tweed 
suit too large, and the colour too pronounced, his 
collars were old-fashioned and his ties hideous. It was 
altogether a new experience with him, this self-dissatis¬ 
faction and sensitiveness to criticism, which at any 
other time he would have regarded with a sort of 
insolent indifference. He remembered his walk west¬ 
ward yesterday with a shudder, as though indeed it 
had been a sort of nightmare, and wondered whether 
she too had regarded him with the eyes of those 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


93 


loungers on the pavement—whether she too was one 
of those who looked for a man to conform to the one 
arbitrary and universal type. Finally he tied his neck¬ 
tie with a curse, and went down to breakfast with little 
of his good-humour left. 

The fresh air sweeping in through the long, open 
windows, the glancing sunlight and the sense of free¬ 
dom, for which the absence of his guests was certainly 
responsible, soon restored his spirits. Blest with an 
excellent morning appetite—the delightful heritage 
of a clean life—he enjoyed his breakfast and thoroughly 
appreciated his cook’s efforts. If he needed a sauce, 
Fate bestowed one upon him, for he was scarcely mid¬ 
way through his meal before a loud ringing at the 
lodge gates proved the accuracy of his conjectures. 
Mr. Da Souza had purchased a morning paper at the 
junction, and their host’s perfidy had become apparent. 
Obviously they had decided to treat the whole matter 
as a practical joke and to brave it out, for outside the 
gates in an open fly were the whole party. They had 
returned, only to find that according to Trent’s orders 
the gates were closed upon them. 

Trent moved his seat to where he could have a better 
view, and continued his breakfast. The party in the 
cab looked hot, and tumbled, and cross. Da Souza 
was on his feet arguing with the lodge-keeper—the 
women seemed to be listening anxiously. Trent 
turned to the servant who was waiting upon him. 

“Send word down,” he directed, “that I will see 
Mr. Da Souza alone. No one else is to be allowed to 
enter. Pass me the toast before you go.” 

Da Souza entered presently, apologetic and abject, 


94 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


prepared at the same time to extenuate and deny. 
Trent continued his breakfast coolly. 

“ My dear friend ! ” Da Souza exclaimed, depositing 
his silk hat upon the table, “ it is a very excellent joke 
of yours. You see, we have entered into the spirit of 
it—oh yes, we have done so indeed! We have taken 
a little drive before breakfast, but we have returned. 
You knew, of course, that we would not dream of 
leaving you in such a manner. Do you not think, 
my dear friend, that the joke was carried now far 
enough ? The ladies are hungry; will you send word 
to the lodge-keeper that he may open the gate? ” 

Trent helped himself to coffee, and leaned back in 
his chair, stirring it thoughtfully. 

“You are right, Da Souza,” he said. “It is an 
excellent joke. The cream of it is too that I am in 
earnest; neither you nor any of those ladies whom I 
see out there will sit at my table again.” 

“ You are not in earnest! You do not mean it! ” 

“I can assure you,” Trent replied grinning, “ that I 
do!” 

“ But do you mean,” Da Souza spluttered, “that we 
are to go like this—to be turned out—the laughing¬ 
stock of your servants, after we have come back too, 
all the way ? — oh, it is nonsense 1 It’s not to be 
endured ! ” 

“You can go to the devil! ” Trent answered coolly. 
“ There is not one of you whom I care a fig to see 
again. You thought that I was ruined, and you 
scudded like rats from a sinking ship. Well, I found 
you out, and a jolly good thing too. All I have to say 
is now, be off, and the quicker the better ! ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


95 


Then Da Souza cringed no longer, and there shot 
from his black eyes the venomous twinkle of the serpent 
whose fangs are out. He leaned over the table, and 
dropped his voice. 

“ I speak,” he said, “ for my wife, my daughter, and 
myself, and I assure you that we decline to go ! ” 


CHAPTER XII 


T RENT rose up with flashing eyes. Da Souza 
shrank back from his outstretched hands. The two 
men stood facing one another. Da Souza was afraid, 
but the ugly look of determination remained upon his 
white face. Trent felt dimly that there was something 
which must be explained between them. There had 
been hints of this sort before from Da Souza. It was 
time the whole thing was cleared up. The lion was 
ready to throw aside the jackal. 

“ I give you thirty seconds,” he said, “ to clear out. 
If you haven’t come to your senses then, you’ll be 
sorry for it.” 

“ Thirty seconds is not long enough,” Da Souza 
answered, “ for me to tell you why I decline to go. 
Better listen to me quietly, my friend. It will be best 
for you. Afterwards you will admit it.” 

“ Go ahead,” Trent said, “ I’m anxious to hear what 
you’ve got to say. Only look here ! I’m a bit short- 
tempered this morning, and I shouldn’t advise you to 
play with your words ! ” 

“ This is no play at all,” Da Souza remarked, with a 
sneer. “ I ask you to remember, my friend, our first 
meeting.” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


97 


Trent nodded. 

“ Never likely to forget it,” he answered. 

“ I came down from Elmina to deal with you,” Da 
Souza continued. “ I had made money trading in 
Ashanti for palm-oil and mahogany. I had money to 
invest—and you needed it. You had land, a conces¬ 
sion to work gold-mines, and build a road to the coast. 
It was speculative, but we did business. . I came with 
you to England. I found more money.” 

“ You made your fortune,” Trent said drily. “ I had 
to have the money, and you ground a share out of me 
which is worth a quarter of a million to you ! ” 

“ Perhaps it is,” Da Souza answered, “ perhaps it is 
not. Perhaps it is worth nothing at all. Perhaps, 
instead of being a millionaire, you yourself are a 
swindler and an adventurer! ” 

“ If you don’t speak out in half a moment,” Trent 
said in a lowtone,“I’ll twist the tongue out of your head.” 

“I am speaking out,” Da Souza answered. “It is 
an ugly thing I have to say, but you must control 
yourself.” 

The little black eyes were like the eyes of a snake. 
He was showing his teeth. He forgot to be afraid. 

“ You had a partner,” he said. “ The concession 
was made out to him together with yourself.” 

“ He died,” Trent answered shortly. “ I took over 
the lot by arrangement.” 

“ A very nice arrangement,” Da Souza drawled with 
a devilish smile. “ He is old and weak. You were 
with him up at Bekwando where there are no white 
men—no one to watch you. You gave him brandy to 
drink—you watch the fever come, and you write on 
7 


98 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


the concession if one should die all goes to the sur¬ 
vivor. And you gave him brandy in the bush where 
the fever is, and—behold you return alone ! When 
people know this they will say, ‘ Oh yes, it is the way 
millionaires are made.’ ” 

He stopped, out of breath, for the veins were stand¬ 
ing out upon his forehead, and he remembered what 
the English doctor at Cape Coast Castle had told him. 
So he was silent for a moment, wiping the perspiration 
away and struggling against the fear which was turn¬ 
ing the blood to ice in his veins. For Trent’s face was 
not pleasant to look upon. 

“ Anything else ? ” 

Da Souza pulled himself together. “ Yes,” he said; 
“ what I have said is as nothing. It is scandalous, and 
it would make talk, but it is nothing. There is some¬ 
thing else.” 

“ Well ? ” 

“You had a partner whom you deserted.” 

“ It is a lie! I carried him on my back for twenty 
hours with a pack of yelling niggers behind. We were 
lost, and I myself was nigh upon a dead man. Who 
would have cumbered himself with a corpse? Curse 
you and your vile hints, you mongrel, you hanger-on, 
you scurrilous beast! Out, and spread your stories, 
before my fingers get on your throat! Out! ” 

Da Souza slunk away before the fire in Trent’s eyes, 
but he had no idea of going. He stood in safety near 
the door, and as he leaned forward, speaking now in a 
hoarse whisper, he reminded Trent momentarily of one 
of those hideous fetish gods in the sacred grove at 
Bekwando. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


99 


“Your partner was no corpse when you left him,” 
he hissed out. “ You were a fool and a bungler not to 
make sure of it. The natives from Bekwando found 
him and carried him bound to the King, and your 
English explorer, Captain Francis, rescued him. He’s, 
alive now! ” 

Trent stood for a moment like a man turned to stone. 
Alive ! Monty alive ! The impossibility of the thing 
came like a flash of relief to him. The man was surely 
on the threshold of death when he had left him, and 
the age of miracles was past. 

“ You’re talking like a fool, Da Souza. Do you 
mean to take me in with an old woman’s story like 
that ? ” 

“ There’s no old woman’s story about what I've told 
you,” Da Souza snarled. “ The man’s alive and I can 
prove it a dozen times over. You were a fool and a 
bungler.” 

Trent thought of the night when he had crept back 
into the bush and had found no trace of Monty, and 
gradually there rose up before him a lurid possibility 
Da Souza’s story was true. The very thought of it 
worked like madness in his brains. When he spoke 
he strove hard to steady his voice, and even to himself 
it sounded like the voice of one speaking a long way 
off. 

“ Supposing that this were true,” he said, “ what is 
he doing all this time ? Why does he not come and 
claim his share ? ” 

Da Souza hesitated. He would have liked to have 
invented another reason, but it was not safe. The 
truth was best. 


100 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ He is half-witted and has lost his memory. He is 
working now at one of the Basle mission-places near 
Attra.” 

“ And why have you not told me this before? ” 

Da Souza shrugged his shoulders. “ It was not 
necessary,” he said. “ Our interests were the same, it 
was better for you not to know.” 

“ He remembers nothing, then ? ” 

Da Souza hesitated. “ Oom Sam,” he said, “ my 
half-brother, keeps an eye on him, Sometimes he 
gets restless, he talks, but what matter? He has no 
money. Soon he must die. He is getting an old 
man! ” 

“ I shall send for him,” Trent said slowly. “ He 
shall have his share! ” 

It was the one fear which had kept Da Souza silent. 
The muscles of his face twitched, and his finger-nails 
were buried in the flesh of his fat, white hands. Side 
by side he had worked with Trent for years without 
being able to form any certain estimate of the man or 
his character. Many a time he had asked himself 
what Trent would do if he knew—only the fear of his 
complete ignorance of the man had kept him silent all 
these years. Now the crisis had come! He had 
spoken ! It might mean ruin. 

‘‘Send for him?” Da Souza said. “Why? His 
memory has gone—save for occasional fits of passion 
in which he raves at you. What would people say ?— 
that you tried to kill him with brandy, that the clause 
in the concession was a direct incentive for you to get 
rid of him, and you left him in the bush only a few 
miles from Buckomari to be seized by the natives. 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTERDAY 


101 


Besides, how can you pay him half ? I know pretty 
well how you stand. On paper, beyond doubt you are 
a millionaire ; but what if all claims were suddenly pre¬ 
sented against you to be paid in sovereigns ? I tell 
you this, my friend, Mr. Scarlett Trent, and I am a man 
of experience and I know. To-day in the City it is 
true that you could raise a million pounds in cash, but 
let me whisper a word, one little word, and you would be 
hard pressed to raise a thousand. It is true there is the 
Syndicate, that great scheme of yours yesterday from 
which you were so careful to exclude me—you are to 
get great monies from them in cash. Bah ! don’t you 
see that Monty’s existence breaks up that Syndicate— 
smashes it into tiny atoms, for you have sold what was 
not yours to sell, and they do not pay for that, eh ? 
They call it fraud ! ” 

He paused, out of breath, and Trent remained silent; 
he knew very well that he was face to face with a great 
crisis. Of all things this was the most fatal which 
could have happened to him. Monty alive! He 
remembered the old man’s passionate cry for life, for 
pleasure, to taste once more, for however short a time, 
the joys of wealth. Monty alive, penniless, half¬ 
witted, the servant of a few ill-paid missionaries, toil¬ 
ing all day for a living, perhaps fishing with the natives 
or digging, a slave still, without hope or understanding, 
with the end of his days well in view ! Surely it were 
better to risk all things, to have him back at any cost? 
Then a thought more terrible yet than any rose up 
before him like a spectre, there was a sudden catch at 
his heart-strings, he was cold with fear. What would 
she think of the man who deserted his partner, an 


102 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


old man, while life was yet in him, and safety close at 
hand? Was it possible that he could ever escape the 
everlasting stigma of cowardice—ay, and before him in 
great red letters he saw written in the air that fatal 
clause in the agreement, to which she and all others 
would point with bitter scorn, indubitable, overwhelm¬ 
ing evidence against him. He gasped for breath and 
walked restlessly up and down the room. Other 
thoughts came crowding in upon him. He was con¬ 
scious of a new element in himself. The last few years 
had left their mark upon him. With the handling of 
great sums of money and the acquisition of wealth 
had grown something of the financier’s fever. He had 
become a power, solidly and steadfastly he had hewn 
his way into a little circle whose fascination had begun 
to tell in his blood. Was he to fall without a struggle 
from amongst the high places, to be stripped of his 
wealth, shunned as a man who was morally, if not in 
fact, a murderer, to be looked upon with never-ending 
scorn by the woman whose picture for years had been 
a religion to him, and whose appearance only a few 
hours ago had been the most inspiring thing which had 
entered into his life ? He looked across the lawn into 
the pine grove with steadfast eyes and knitted brows, 
and Da Souza watched him, ghastly and nervous. 
At least he must have time to decide! 

“If you send for him,” Da Souza said slowly, “ you 
will be absolutely ruined. It will be a triumph for 
those whom you have made jealous, who have measured 
their wits with yours and gone under. Oh ! but the 
newspapers will enjoy it—that is very certain. Our 
latest millionaire, his rise and fall! Cannot you see it 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


103 


in the placards ? And for what ? To give wealth to 
an old man long past the enjoyment of it—ay, imbecile 
already ! You will not be a madman, Trent? ” 

Trent winced perceptibly. Da Souza saw it and 
rejoiced. There was another awkward silence. Trent 
lit a cigar and puffed furiously at it. 

“ I will think it over, at least,” he said in a low tone. 
“Bring back your wife and daughter, and leave me 
alone for a while.” 

“ I knew,” Da Souza murmured, “ that my friend 
would be reasonable.” 

“ And the young ladies ? ” 

“ Send them to-” 

“ I will send them back to where they came from/’ 
Da Souza interrupted blandly. 



CHAPTER XIH 

I T is probable that Mrs. Da Souza, excellent wife and 
mother though she had proved herself to be, had 
never admired her husband more than when, followed 
by the malevolent glances of Miss Montressor and her 
friend, she, with her daughter and Da Souza, re-entered 
the gates of the Lodge. The young ladies had an¬ 
nounced their intention of sitting in the fly until they 
were allowed speech with their late host; to which he 
had replied that they were welcome to sit there until 
doomsday so long as they remained outside his gates. 
Mr. Da Souza lingered for a moment behind and laid 
his finger upon his nose. 

“It ain’t no use, my dears," he whispered confiden¬ 
tially. “ He’s fairly got the hump. Between you and 
me he’d give a bit not to have us, but me and him being 
old friends—you see, we know a bit about one another." 

“Oh, that’s it, is it?’’ Miss Montressor remarked, 
with a toss of her head. “ Well, you and your wife 
and your little chit of a daughter are welcome to him 
so far as we are concerned, aren’t they, Flossie ? ’’ 

“ Well, I should say so,’’ agreed the young lady, who 
rather affected Americanisms. 

10i 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


105 


Da Souza stroked his little imperial, and winked 
solemnly. 

“You are young ladies of spirit,” he declared. 
“ Now-” 

“ Hiram! ” 

“ I am coming, my dear,” he called over his shoulder. 
“ One word more, my charming young friends! No. 
7, Racket’s Court, City, is my address. Look in some¬ 
time when you’re that way, and we’ll have a bit of 
lunch together, and just at present take my advice. 
Get back to London and write him from there. He is 
not in a good humour at present.” 

“ We are much obliged, Mr. Da Souza,” the young 
lady answered loftily. “As we have engagements in 
London this afternoon, we may as well go now—eh. 
Flossie?” 

“ Right along,” answered the young lady, “ I’m with 
you, but as to writing Mr. Trent, you can tell him from 
me, Mr. Da Souza, that we want to have nothing more 
to do with him. A fellow that can treat ladies as he 
has treated us is no gentleman. You can tell him that. 
He’s an ignorant, common fellow, and for my part I 
despise him.” 

“ Same here,” echoed Miss Montressor, heartily. 
“ We ain’t used to associate with such as him ! ” 

“ Hiram! ” 

Mr. Da Souza raised his hat and bowed; the ladies 
were tolerably gracious and the fly drove off. Where¬ 
upon Mr. Da Souza followed his wife and daughter 
along the drive and caught them up upon the door¬ 
step. With mingled feelings of apprehension and 
elation he ushered them into the morning-room where 


106 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Trent was standing looking out of the window with 
his hands behind him. At their entrance he did not at 
once turn round. Mr. Da Souza coughed apologetically. 

“ Here we are, my friend,” he remarked. “ The 
ladies are anxious to wish you good morning.” 

Trent faced them with a sudden gesture of im¬ 
patience. He seemed on the point of an angry exclama¬ 
tion, when his eyes met Julie Da Souza’s. He held his 
breath for a moment and was silent. Her face was 
scarlet with shame, and her lips were trembling. For 
her sake Trent restrained himself. 

“ Glad to see you back again, Julie,” he said, ignor¬ 
ing her mother’s outstretched hand and beaming smile 
of welcome. “ Going to be a hot day, I think. You must 
get out in the hay-field. Order what breakfast you 
please, Da Souza,” he continued on his way to the 
door; “you must be hungry—after such an early 
start! ” 

Mrs. Da Souza sat down heavily and rang the bell. 

“ He was a little cool,” she remarked, “ but that was 
to be expected. Did you observe the notice he took of 
Julie ? Dear child ! ” 

Da Souza rubbed his hands and nodded meaningly. 
The girl, who, between the twoj was miserable enough, 
sat down with a little sob. Her mother looked at her 
in amazement. 

“ My Julie,” she exclaimed, “ my dear child ! You 
see, Hiram, she is faint! She is overcome ! ” 

The child, she was very little more, broke out at 
last in speech, passionately, yet with a miserable fore¬ 
knowledge of the ineffectiveness of anything she might 
say. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


107 


“ It is horrible/’ she cried, “ it is maddening! Why 
do we do it ? Are we paupers or adventurers ? Oh ! 
let me go away! I am ashamed to stay in this house ! ” 

Her father, his thumbs in the armholes of his waist¬ 
coat and his legs far apart, looked at her in blank and 
speechless amazement; her mother, with more con¬ 
sideration but equal lack of sympathy, patted her gently 
on the back of her hand. 

“ Silly Julie,” she murmured, “ what is there that is 
horrible, little one ? ” 

The dark eyes blazed with scorn, the delicately curved 
lips shook. 

“ Why, the way we thrust ourselves upon this man 
is horrible! ” she cried. “ Can you not see that we are 
not welcome, that he wishes us gone ? ” 

Da Souza smiled in a superior manner; the smile of 
a man who, if only he would, could explain all things. 
He patted his daughter on the head with a touch 
which was meant to be playful. 

“ My little one,” he said, “ you are mistaken! Leave 
these matters to those who are older and wiser than 
you. It is but just now that my good friend said ta 
me, * Da Souza,’ he say, 4 1 will not have you take your 
little daughter away ! ’ Oh, we shall see ! We shall 
see! ” 

Julie’s tears crept through the fingers closely pressed 
over her eyes. 

“ I do not believe it,” she sobbed. “ He has scarcely 
looked at me all the time, and I do not want him to. 
He despises us all—and I don’t blame him. It is 
horrid ! ” 

Mrs. Da Souza, with a smile which was meant to be 


108 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


arch, had something to say, but the arrival of breakfast 
broke up for a while the conversation. Her husband, 
whom Nature had blessed with a hearty appetite at all 
times, was this morning after his triumph almost dis¬ 
posed to be boisterous. He praised the cooking, chaffed 
the servants to their infinite disgust, and continually 
urged his wife and daughter to keep pace with him in 
his onslaught upon the various dishes which were 
placed before him. Before the meal was over Julie 
had escaped from the table crying softly. Mr. Da 
Souza’s face darkened as he looked up at the sound of 
her movement, only to see her skirt vanishing through 
the door. 

“ Shall you have trouble with her, my dear ? ” he 
asked his wife anxiously. 

That estimable lady shook her head with a placid 
smile. “Julie is so sensitive,” she muttered, “but 
she is not disobedient. When the time comes I can 
make her mind.” 

“ But the time has come! ” Da Souza exclaimed. “ It 
is here now, and Julie is sulky. She will have red eyes 
and she is not gay! She will not attract him. You 
must speak with her, my dear.” 

“ I will go now—this instant,” she answered, rising. 
“ But, Hiram, there is one thing I would much like to 
know.” 

“ Ugh ! You women ! You are always like that! 
There is so much that you want to know ! ” 

“ Most women, Hiram—not me ! Do I ever seek to 
know your secrets ? But this time—yes, it would be 
wiser to tell me a little ! ” 

“Well?” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


109 


“ This Mr. Trent, he asked us here, but it is plain 
that our company is not pleasant to him. He does his 
best to get rid of us—he succeeds—he plans that we 
shall not return. You see him alone and all that is 
altered. His little scheme has been in vain. We 
remain! He does not look at our Julie. He speaks of 
marriage with contempt. Yet you say he will marry 
her—he, a millionaire ! What does it mean, Hiram ? ” 

“ The man, he is in my power,” Da Souza says in a 
ponderous and stealthy whisper. “I know something.” 

She rose and imprinted a solemn kiss upon his fore¬ 
head. There was something sacramental about the 
deliberate caress. 

“ Hiram,” she said, “ you are a wonderful man ! ** 


CHAPTER XIV 

S CARLETT TRENT spent the first part of the 
morning, to which he had been looking forward so 
eagerly, alone in his study with locked door to keep out 
all intruders. He had come face to face with the first 
serious check in his career, and it had been dealt him 
too by the one man whom, of all his associates, he dis¬ 
liked and despised. In the half-open drawer by his side 
was the barrel of a loaded revolver. He drew it out, 
laid it on the table before him, and regarded it with 
moody, fascinated eyes. If only it could be safely done, 
if only for one moment he could find himself face to 
face with Da Souza in Bekwando village, where human 
life was cheap and the slaying of a man an incident 
scarcely worth noting in the day’s events ! The thing 
was easy enough there—here it was too risky. He 
thrust the weapon back into the drawer with a sigh of 
regret, just as Da Souza himself appeared upon the 
scene. 

“You sent for me, Trent,” the latter remarked 
timidly. “I am quite ready to answer any more ques¬ 
tions.” 

“ Answer this one, then,” was the gruff reply. " In 
no 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 111 


Buckomari village before we left for England I was 
robbed of a letter. I don’t think I need ask you who 
was the thief.” 

“ Beally, Trent—I-” 

“ Don’t irritate me; I’m in an ill humour for any¬ 
thing of that sort. You stole it! I can see why now! 
Have you got it still ? ” 

The Jew shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Yes ! ” 

“Hand it over.” 

Da Souza drew a large folding case from his pocket 
and after searching through it for several moments pro¬ 
duced an envelope. The handwriting was shaky and 
irregular, and so faint that even in the strong, sweet 
light of the morning sunshine Trent had difficulty in 
reading it. He tore it open and drew out a half-sheet 
of coarse paper. It was a message from the man who 
for long he had counted dead. 


“ Bekwando. 

“ My dear Trent, —I have been drinking as usual! 
Some men see snakes, but I have seen death leering at 
me from the dark corners of this vile hut, and death is an 
evil thing to look at when one’s life has been evil as mine 
has been. Never mind ! I have sown and I must reap ! 
But, my friend, a last word with you. I have a notion, 
and more than a notion, that I shall never pass back alive 
through these pestilential swamps. If you should arrive, 
as you doubtless will, here is a charge which I lay upon 
you. That agreement of ours is scarcely a fair one, is 
it, Trent ? When I signed it, I wasn’t quite myself. 
Never mind ! I’ll trust to you to do what’s fair. If 



112 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


the thing turns out a great success, put some sort of a 
share at any rate to my credit and let my daughter 
have it. You will find her address from Messrs. Harris 
and Culsom, Solicitors, Lincoln’s Inn Fields. You 
need only ask them for Monty’s daughter and show 
them this letter. They will understand. I believe you 
to be a just man, Scarlett Trent, although I know you 
to be a hard one. Do then as I ask. 

“ Monty.” 

Da Souza had left the room quietly. Trent read the 
letter through twice and locked it up in his desk. 
Then he rose and lit a pipe, knocking out the ashes 
carefully and filling the bowl with dark but fragrant 
tobacco. Presently he rang the bell. 

“ Tell Mr. Da Souza I wish to see him here at once,” 
he told the servant, and, though the message was a trifle 
peremptory from a host to his guest, Da Souza promptly 
appeared, suave and cheerful. 

“ Shut the door,” Trent said shortly. 

Da Souza obeyed with unabashed amiability. Trent 
watched him with something like disgust. Da Souza 
returning caught the look, and felt compelled to pro¬ 
test. 

“ My dear Trent,” he said, “ I do not like the way 
you address me, or your manners towards me. You 
speak as though I were a servant. I do not like it all, 
and it is not fair. I am your guest, am I not ? ” 

“You are my guest by your own invitation,” Trent 
answered roughly, “ and if you don’t like my manners 
you can turn out. I may have to endure you in the 
house till I have made up my mind how to get rid of 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


113 


you, but I want as little of your company as possible. 
Do you hear ? ” 

Da Souza did hear it, and the worm turned. He sat 
down in the most comfortable easy-chair, and addressed 
Trent directly. 

“ My friend,” he said, “you are out of temper, ard 
that is a bad thing. Now listen to me! You are in 
my power. I have only to go into the City to-morrow 
and breathe here and there a word about a certain 
old gentleman who shall be nameless, and you would 
be a ruined man in something less than an hour ; added 
to this, my friend, you would most certainly be arrested 
for conspiracy and fraud. That Syndicate of yours was 
a, very smart stroke of business, no doubt, and it was 
clever of you to keep me in ignorance of it, but as 
things have turned out now, that will be your con¬ 
demnation. They will say, why did you keep me in 
ignorance of this move, and the answer—why, it is 
very clear! I knew you were selling what was not 
yours to sell! ” 

“ I kept you away,” Trent said scornfully, “ because 
I was dealing with men who would not have touched 
the thing if they had known that you were in it! ” 

“ Who will believe it ? ” Da Souza asked, with a 
sneer. “ They will say that it is but one more of the 
fairy tales of this wonderful Mr. Scarlett Trent.” 

The breath came through Trent’s lips with a little 
hiss and his eyes were flashing with a dull fire. But 
Da Souza held his ground. He had nerved himself up 
to this and he meant going through with it. 

“ You think I dare not breathe a word for my own 
sake,” he continued. “ There is reason in that, but I 

8 




114 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


have other monies. I am rich enough without my sixth 
share of that Bekwando Land and Mining Company 
which you and the Syndicate are going to bring out! 
But then, I am not a fool! I have no wish to throw 
away money. Now I propose to you therefore a friendly 
settlement. My daughter Julie is very charming. You 
admire her, I am sure. You shall marry her, and then 
we will all be one family. Our interests will be the 
same, and you may be sure that I shall look after them. 
Come ! Is that not a friendly offer ? ” 

For several minutes Trent smoked furiously, but he 
did not speak. At the end of that time he took the 
revolver once more from the drawer of his writing-table 
and fingered it. 

“Da Souza,” he said, “if I had you just for five 
minutes at Bekwando we would talk together of black¬ 
mail, you and I, we would talk of marrying your 
daughter. We would talk then to some purpose—you 
hound ! Get out of the room as fast as your legs will 
carry you. This revolver is loaded, and I’m not quite 
master of myself.” 

Da Souza made off with amazing celerity. Trent 
drew a short, quick breath. There was a great deal of 
the wild beast left in him still. At that moment the 
desire to kill was hot in his blood. His eyes glared 
as he walked up and down the room. The years of 
civilisation seemed to have become as nothing. The 
veneer of the City speculator had fallen away. He 
was once more as he had been in those wilder days 
when men made their own laws, and a man’s hold 
upon life was a slighter thing than his thirst for gold. 
As such, he found the atmosphere of the little room 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


115 


choking him, he drew open the French windows of his 
little study and strode out into the perfumed and sunlit 
morning. As such, he found himself face to face 
unexpectedly and without warning with the girl whom 
he had discovered sketching in the shrubbery the day 
before. 




CHAPTER XV 


P ROBABLY nothing else in the world could so soon 
have transformed Scarlett Trent from the Gold 
Coast buccaneer to the law-abiding tenant of a Surrey 
villa. Before her full, inquiring eyes and calm salute 
he found himself at once abashed and confused. He 
raised his hand to his head, only to find that he had 
come out without a hat, and he certainly appeared, as 
he stood there, to his worst possible advantage. 

“Good morning, miss,” he stammered; “ I’m afraid 
I startled you ! ” 

She winced a little at his address, but otherwise her 
manner was not ungracious. 

“You did a little,” she admitted. “ Do you usually 
stride out of your windows like that, bareheaded and 
muttering to yourself ? ” 

“ I was in a beastly temper,” he admitted. “ If I 
had known who was outside—it would have been 
different.” 

She looked into his face with some interest. “YvHhat 
an odd thing ! ” she remarked. “ Why, I should have 
thought that to-day you would have been amiability 
itself. I read at breakfast-time that you had accom¬ 
plished something more than ordinarily wonderful in 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


117 


the City and had made—I forget how many hundreds 
of thousands of pounds. When I showed the sketch 
of your house to my chief, and told him that you were 
going to let me interview you to-day, I really thought 
that he would have raised my salary at once.” 

“ It’s more luck than anything,” he said. “ I’ve 
stood next door to ruin twice. I may again, although 
I’m a millionaire to-day.” 

She looked at him curiously—at his ugly tweed suit, 
his yellow boots, and up into the strong, forceful face 
with eyes set in deep hollows under his protruding 
brows, at the heavy jaws giving a certain coarseness to 
his expression, which his mouth and forehead, well¬ 
shaped though they were, could not altogether dispel. 
And at the same time he looked at her, slim, tall, and 
elegant, daintily clothed from her shapely shoes to her 
sailor hat, her brown hair, parted in the middle, 
escaping a little from its confinement to ripple about 
her forehead, and show more clearly the delicacy of 
her complexion. Trent was an ignorant man on many 
subjects, on others his taste seemed almost intuitively 
correct. He knew that this girl belonged to a class 
from which his descent and education had left him far 
apart, a class of which he knew nothing, and with 
whom he could claim no kinship. She too was 
realising it—her interest in him was, however, none 
the less deep. He was a type of those powers which 
to-day hold the world in their hands, make kingdoms 
tremble, and change the fate of nations. Perhaps he 
was all the more interesting to her because, by all the 
ordinary standards of criticism, he would fail to be 
ranked, in the jargon of her class, as a gentleman. 



118 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


He represented something in flesh and blood which 
had never seemed more than half real to her—power 
without education. She liked to consider herself— 
being a writer with ambitions who took herself seri¬ 
ously—a student of human nature. Here was a speci¬ 
men worth impaling, an original being, a creature of a 
new type such as never had come within the region of 
her experience. It was worth while ignoring small 
idiosyncrasies which might offend, in order to annex 
him. Besides, from a journalistic point of view, the 
man was more than interesting—he was a veritable 
treasure. 

“ You are going to talk to me about Africa, are you 
not?” she reminded him. “Couldn’t we sit in the 
shade somewhere. I got quite hot walking from the 
station.” 

He led the way across the lawn, and they sat under 
a cedar-tree. He was awkward and ill at ease, but she 
had tact enough for both. 

“I can’t understand,” he began, “how people are 
interested in the stuff which gets into papers nowadays. 
If you want horrors though, I can supply you. Bor 
one man who succeeds over there, there are a dozen 
who find it a short cut down into hell. I can tell you 
if you like of my days of starvation.” 

“ Go on ! ” 

Like many men who talk but seldom, he had the 
gift when he chose to speak of reproducing his expe¬ 
riences in vivid though unpolished language. He told 
her of the days when he had worked on the banks of 
the Congo with the coolies, a slave in everything but 
name, when the sun had burned the brains of men to 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


119 


madness, and the palm wine had turned them into 
howling devils. He told her of the natives of Bek- 
wando, of the days they had spent amongst them in 
that squalid hut when their fate hung in the balance 
day by day, and every shout that went up from the 
warriors gathered round the house of the King was a 
cry of death. He spoke of their ultimate success, of 
the granting of the concession which had laid the 
foundation of his fortunes, and then of that terrible 
journey back through the bush, followed by the natives 
who had already repented of their action, and who 
dogged their footsteps hour after hour, waiting for 
them only to sleep or rest to seize upon them and 
haul them back to Bekwando, prisoners for the 
sacrifice. 

“ It was only our revolvers which kept them away,” 
he went on. “ I shot eight or nine of them at different 
times when they came too close, and to hear them 
wailing over the bodies was one of the most hideous 
things you can imagine. Why, for months and months 
afterwards I couldn’t sleep. I’d wake up in the night 
and fancy that I heard that cursed yelling outside my 
window—ay, even on the steamer at night-time if I was 
on deck before moonlight, I’d seem to hear it rising up 
out of the water. Ugh ! ” 

She shuddered. 

“ But you both escaped ? ” she said. 

There was a moment’s silence. The shade of the 
cedar-tree was deep and cool, but it brought little relief 
to Trent. The perspiration stood out on his forehead 
in great beads, he breathed for a moment in little 
gasps as though stifled. 


120 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ No,” he answered; “ my partner died within a 
mile or two of the Coast. He was very ill when we 
started, and I pretty well had to carry him the whole 
of the last day. I did my best for him. I did, indeed, 
but it was no good. I had to leave him. There was 
no use sacrificing oneself for a dead man.” 

She inclined her head sympathetically. 

“ Was he an Englishman ? ” she asked. 

He faced the question just as he had faced death 
years before leering at him, a few feet from the muzzle 
of his revolver. 

“ He was an Englishman. The only name we had 
ever heard him called by was ‘ Monty.’ Some said 
he was a broken-down gentleman. I believe he was.” 

She w r as unconscious of his passionate, breathless 
scrutiny, unconscious utterly of the great wave of 
relief which swept into his face as he realised that 
his words were without any special meaning to her. 

“It was very sad indeed,” she said. “If he had 
lived, he would have shared with you, I suppose, in 
the concession?” 

Trent nodded. 

“ Yes, we were equal partners. We had an arrange¬ 
ment by which, if one died, the survivor took the lot. 
I didn’t want it though, I’d rather he had pulled 
through. I would indeed,” he repeated with nervous 
force. 

“I am quite sure of that,” she answered. “And 
now tell me something about your career in the City 
after you came to England. Do you know, I have 
scarcely ever been in what you financiers call the City. 
In a w r ay it must be interesting.” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


121 


“ You wouldn’t find it so,” he said. “ It is not a 
place for such as you. It is a life of lies and gambling 
and deceit. There are times when I have hated it. I 
hate it now! ” 

She was unaffectedly surprised. What a speech for 
a millionaire of yesterday! 

“ I thought,” she said, “ that for those who took 
part in it, it possessed a fascination stronger than any¬ 
thing else in the world.” 

He shook his head. 

“ It is an ugly fascination,” he said. “You are in 
the swim, and you must hold your own. You gamble 
with other men, and when you win you chuckle. All 
the time you’re whittling your conscience away—if 
ever you had any. You’re never quite dishonest, and 
you’re never quite honest. You come out on top, and 
afterwards you hate yourself. It’s a dirty little life ! ” 

“ Well,” she remarked after a moment’s pause, “you 
have surprised me very much. At any rate you are 
rich enough now to have no more to do with it.” 

He kicked a fir cone savagely away. 

“ If I could,” he said, “ I would shut up my office 
to-morrow, sell out, and live upon a farm. But I’ve 
got to keep what I’ve made. The more you succeed 
the more involved you become. It’s a sort of slavery.” 

“ Have you no friends ? ” she asked. 

“ I have never,” he answered, “ had a friend in my 
life.” 

“ You have guests at any rate ! 99 

“ I sent ’em away last night! ” 

“ What, the young lady in blue ? 99 she asked 
demurely. 




122 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“Yes, and the other one too. Packed them clean 
off, and they’re not coming back either ! ” 

“ I am very pleased to hear it,” she remarked. 

“ There’s a man and his wife and daughter here I 
can’t get rid of quite so easily,” he went on gloomily, 
“ but they’ve got to go ! ” 

“ They would be less objectionable to the people 
round here who might like to come and see you,” she 
remarked, “than two unattached young ladies.” 

“ May be,” he answered. “ Yet I’d give a lot to be 
rid of them.” 

He had risen to his feet and was standing with his 
back to the cedar-tree, looking away with fixed eyes to 
where the sunlight fell upon a distant hillside gorgeous 
with patches and streaks of yellow gorse and purple 
heather. Presently she noticed his abstraction and 
looked also through the gap in the trees. 

“ You have a beautiful view here,” she said. “ You 
are fond of the country, are you not? ” 

“Very,” he answered. 

“ It is not every one,” she remarked, “ who is able 
to appreciate it, especially when their lives have been 
spent as yours must have been.” 

He looked at her curiously. “ I wonder,” he said, 
“if you have any idea how my life has been spent.” 

“ You have given me,” she said, “ a very fair idea 
about some part of it at any rate.” 

He drew a long breath and looked down at her. 

“ I have given you no idea at all,” he said firmly. 
“I have told you a few incidents, that is all. You 
have talked to me as though I were an equal. Listen! 
you are probably the first lady with whom I have ever 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


123 


spoken. I do not want to deceive you. I never had a 
scrap of education. My father was a carpenter who 
drank himself to death, and my mother was a factory 
girl. I was in the workhouse when I was a boy. I 
have never been to school. I don’t know how to talk 
properly, but I should be worse even than I am, if I 
had not had to mix up with a lot of men in the City 
who had been properly educated. I am utterly and 
miserably ignorant. I’ve got low tastes and lots of 
’em. I was drunk a few nights ago—I’ve done most 
of the things men who are beasts do. There ! Now, 
don’t you want to run away ? ” 

She shook her head and smiled up at him. She was 
immensely interested. 

“ If that is the worst,” she said gently, “I am not at 
all frightened. You know that it is my profession to 
write about men and women. I belong to a world of 
worn-out types, and to meet any one different is quite 
a luxury.” 

“ The worst! ” A sudden fear sent an icy coldness 
shivering through his veins. His heart seemed to stop 
beating, his cheeks were blanched. The worst of him. 
He had not told her that he was a robber, that the 
foundation of his fortunes was a lie; that there lived 
a man who might bring all this great triumph of his 
shattered and crumbling about his ears. A passionate 
fear lest she might ever know of these things was born 
in his heart at that moment, never altogether to leave 
him. 

The sound of a footstep close at hand made them 
both turn their heads. Along the winding path came 
Da Souza, with an ugly smirk upon his white face, 


( 


124 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 

smoking a cigar whose odour seemed to poison the 
air. Trent turned upon him with a look of thunder. 

“What do you want here, Da Souza?” he asked 
fiercely. 

Da Souza held up the palms of his hands. 

“I was strolling about,” he said, “and I saw you 
through the trees. I did not know that you were so 
pleasantly engaged,” he added, with a wave of his hat 
to the girl, “or I would not have intruded.” 

Trent kicked open the little iron gate which led into 
the garden beyond. 

“Well, get out, and don’t come here again,” he said 
shortly. “ There’s plenty of room for you to wander 
about and poison the air with those abominable cigars 
of yours without coming here.” 

Da Souza replaced his hat upon his head. 

“ The cigars, my friend, are excellent. We cannot 
all smoke the tobacco of a millionaire, can we, miss ? ” 

The girl, who was making some notes in her book, 
continued her work without the slightest appearance 
of having heard him. 

Da Souza snorted, but at that moment he felt a grip 
like iron upon his shoulder, and deemed retreat expe¬ 
dient. 

“ If you don’t go without another word,” came a hot 
whisper in his ear, “ I’ll throw you into the horse- 
pond.” 

He went swiftly, ungracious, scowling. Trent 
returned to the girl. She looked up at him and 
closed her book. 

“You must change your friends,” she said gravely. 
“ What a horrible man ! ” 


i'A 



“‘If you don’t go without another word,’ came a hot whisper, 
‘ I *11 throw you into the horse-pond.’ ” 


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A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


125 


“ He is a beast,” Trent answered, “ and go he shall. 
I would to Heaven that I had never seen him.” 

She rose, slipped her note-book into her pocket, and 
drew on her gloves. 

“ I have taken up quite enough of your time,” she 
said. “ I am so much obliged to you, Mr. Trent, for 
all you have told me. It has been most interesting.” 

She held out her hand, and the touch of it sent his 
heart beating with a most unusual emotion. He was 
aghast at the idea of her imminent departure. He 
realised that, when she passed out of his gate, she 
passed into a world where she would be hopelessly 
lost to him, so he took his courage into his hands, and 
was very bold indeed. 

“ You have not told me your name,” he reminded 
her. 

She laughed lightly. 

“ How very unprofessional of me ! I ought to have 
given you a card! For all you know I may be an 
impostor, indulging an unpardonable curiosity. “ My 
name is Wendermott—Ernestine Wendermott.” 

He repeated it after her. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I am beginning to think 
of some more things which I might have told you.” 

“ Why, I should have to write a novel then to get 
them all in,” she said. “ I am sure you have given me 
all the material I need here.” 

“I am going,” he said abruptly, “to ask you some¬ 
thing very strange and very presumptuous ! ” 

She looked at him in surprise, scarcely understanding 
what he could mean. 

“ May I come and see you some time ? M 


126 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


The earnestness of his gaze and the intense anxiety 
of his tone almost disconcerted her. He was obviously 
very much in earnest, and she had found him far from 
uninteresting. 

“ By all means,” she answered pleasantly, “ if you 
care to. I have a little flat in Culpole Street—No. 81. 
You must come and have tea with me one afternoon.” 

“ Thank you,” he said simply, with a sigh of 
immense relief. 

He walked with her to the gate, and they talked 
about rhododendrons. 

Then he watched her till she became a speck in the 
dusty road—she had refused a carriage, and he had 
had tact enough not to press any hospitality upon 
her. 

“ His little girl! ” he murmured. u Monty’s little 
girl!” 


CHAPTER XVI 


E rnestine wendermott travelled bac* to 

London in much discomfort, being the eleventh 
occupant of a third-class carriage in a particularly 
unpunctual and dilatory train. Arrived at Waterloo, 
she shook out her skirts with a little gesture of relief 
and started off to walk to the Strand. Half-way across 
the bridge she came face to face with a tall, good- 
looking young man who was hurrying in the opposite 
direction. He stopped short as he recognised her, 
dropped his eyeglass, and uttered a little exclamation 
of pleasure, 

“ Ernestine, by all that’s delightful! I am in luck 
to-day! ” 

She smiled slightly and gave him her hand, but 
it was evident that this meeting was not wholly 
agreeable to her. 

“ I don’t quite see where the luck comes in,” she 
answered. “I have no time to waste talking to you 
now. I am in a hurry.” 

“You will allow me,” he said hopefully, “ to walk a 
little way with you ? ” 

“ I am not able to prevent it—if you think it worth 
while,” she answered. 


127 


123 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


He looked down—he was by her side now—in good- 
humoured protest. 

“ Come, Ernestine,” he said, “ you mustn’t bear 
malice against me. Perhaps I was a little hasty when 
I spoke so strongly about your work. I don’t like your 
doing it and never shall like it, but I’ve said all I want 
to. You won’t let it divide us altogether, will you ? ” 
“For the present,” she answered, “it occupies the 
whole of my time, and the whole of my thoughts.” 

“ To the utter exclusion, I suppose,” he remarked, 
“ of me ? ” 

She laughed gaily. 

“ My dear Cecil! when have I ever led you to 
suppose for a moment that I have ever wasted any 
time thinking of you?” 

He was determined not to be annoyed, and he ignored 
both the speech and the laugh. 

“ May I inquire how you are getting on ? ” 

“ I am getting on,” she answered, “ very well indeed. 
The Editor is beginning to say very nice things to me, 
and already the men treat me just as though I were a 
comrade ! It is so nice of them ! ” 

“ Is it ? ” he muttered doubtfully. 

“ I have just finished,” she continued, “ the most 
important piece of work they have trusted me with yet, 
and I have been awfully lucky. I have been to 
interview a millionaire ! ” 

“ A man ? ” 

She nodded. “ Of course ! ” 

“ It isn’t fit work for you,” he exclaimed hastily. 

“ You will forgive me if I consider myself the best 
judge of that,” she answered coldly. “ I am a 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


129 


journalist, and so long as it is honest work my sex 
doesn’t count. If every one whom I have to see is 
as courteous to me as Mr. Trent has been, I shall 
consider myself very lucky indeed.” 

“ As who ? ” he cried. 

She looked up at him in surprise. They were at the 
corner of the Strand, but as though in utter forgetful¬ 
ness of their whereabouts, he had suddenly stopped 
short and gripped her tightly by the arm. She shook 
herself free with a little gesture of annoyance. 

“Whatever is the matter with you, Cecil? Don’t 
gape at me like that, and come along at once, unless 
you want to be left behind. Yes, we are very short- 
handed and the chief let me go down to see Mr. Trent. 
He didn’t expect for a moment that I should get him 
to talk to me, but I did, and he let me sketch the 
house. I am awfully pleased with myself I can tell you.” 

The young man walked by her side for a moment in 
silence. She looked up at him casually as they crossed 
the street, and something in his face surprised her. 

“Why, Cecil, what on earth is the matter with 
you?” she exclaimed. 

He looked down at her with a new seriousness. 

“ I was thinking,” he said, “ how oddly things turn 
out. So you have been down to interview Mr. Scarlett 
Trent for a newspaper, and he was civil to you! ” 

“ Well, I don’t see anything odd about that,” she 
exclaimed impatiently. “ Don’t be so enigmatical. If 
you’ve anything to say, say it! Don’t look at me like 
an owl! ” 

“I have a good deal to say to you,” he answered 
gravely. “ How long shall you be at the office ? ” 

9 


130 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ About an hour—perhaps longer.” 

“ I will wait for you ! ” 

“ I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t want them to think 
that I go trailing about with an escort.” 

“Then may I come down to your flat? I have 
something really important to say to you, Ernestine. 
It does not concern myself at all. It is wholly about 
you. It is something which you ought to know.” 

“You are trading upon my curiosity for the sake 
of a tea,” she laughed. “Very well, about five 
o’clock.” 

He bowed and walked back westwards with a graver 
look than usual upon his boyish face, for he had a 
task before him which was very little to his liking. 
Ernestine swung open the entrance door to the 
Hour , and passed down the rows of desks until she 
reached the door at the further end marked “ Sub- 
Editor.” She knocked and was admitted at once. 

A thin, dark young man, wearing a pince-nez 
and smoking a cigarette, looked up from his writing as 
she entered. He waved her to a seat, but his pen 
never stopped for a second. 

“ Back, Miss Wendermott! Very good ! What did 
you get ? ” 

“ Interview and sketch of the house,” she responded 
briskly. 

“ Interview by Jove! That’s good ! Was he very 
difficult ? ” 

“Ridiculously easy! Told me everything I asked 
and a lot more. If I could have got it all down in his 
own language it would have been positively thrilling.” 

The sub-editor scribbled in silence for a moment or 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


131 


two. He had reached an important point in his own 
work. His pen went slower, hesitated for a moment, 
and then dashed on with renewed vigour. 

“ Bead the first few sentences of what you’ve got,” 
he remarked. 

Ernestine obeyed. To all appearance the man was 
engrossed in his own work, but when she paused 
he nodded his head appreciatively. 

“ It’ll do ! ” he said. “ Don’t try to polish it. Give 
it down, and see that the proofs are submitted to 
me. Where’s the sketch?” 

She held it out to him. For a moment he looked 
away from his own work and took the opportunity 
to light a fresh cigarette. Then he nodded, hastily 
scrawled some dimensions on the margin of the little 
drawing and settled down again to work. 

“ It’ll do,” he said. “ Give it to Smith. Come back 
at eight to look at your proofs after I’ve done 
with them. Good interview ! Good sketch! You’ll do, 
Miss Wendermott.” 

She went out laughing softly. This was quite the 
longest conversation she had ever had with the chief. 
She made her way to the side of the first disengaged 
typist, and sitting in an easy-chair gave down her copy, 
here and there adding a little but leaving it mainly in the 
rough. She knew whose hand, with a few vigorous 
touches would bring the whole thing into the form 
which the readers of the Hour, delighted in, and 
she was quite content to have it so. The work was 
interesting and more than an hour had passed before 
she rose and put on her gloves. 

“I am coming back at eight,” she said, “but the 





132 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


proofs are to go into Mr. Darrel! Nothing come in 
for me, I suppose ? ” 

The girl shook her head, so Ernestine walked out 
into the street. Then she remembered Cecil Davenant 
and his strange manner—the story which he was even 
now waiting to tell her. She looked at her watch and 
after a moment’s hesitation called a hansom. 

81, Culpole Street, she told him. “ This is a little 
extravagant,” she said to herself as the man wheeled 
his horse round, 4 ‘but to-day I think that I have 
earned it.” 


I 


CHAPTER XVII 


“ T^RNESTINE,” he said gravely, “I am going to 
^ speak to you about your father! ” 

She looked up at him in swift surprise. 

“ Is it necessary ? ” 

“ I think so,” he answered. “ You won’t like what 
I’m going to tell you ! You’ll think you’ve been badly 
treated. So you have ! I pledged my word, in a weak 
hour, with the others. To-day I’m going to break 
it. I think it best.” 

“Well?” 

“ You’ve been deceived! You were told always that 
your father had died in prison. He didn’t.” 

“ What! ” 

Her sharp cry rang out strangely into the little 
room. Already he could see signs of the coming 
storm, and the task which lay before him seemed 
more hateful than ever. 

“Listen,” he said. “I must tell you some things 
which you know in order to explain others which you 
do not know. Your father was a younger son born 
of extravagant parents, virtually penniless and without 
the least capacity for earning money. I don’t blame 


134 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


him—who could? I couldn’t earn money myself. If I 
hadn’t got it I daresay that I should go to the bad as 
he did.” 

The girl’s lips tightened, and she drew a little breath 
through her teeth. Davenant hesitated. 

“You know all about that company affair. Of 
course they made your father the butt of the whole 
thing, although he was little more than a tool. He 
was sent to prison for seven years. You were only 
a child then and your mother was dead. Well, when 
the seven years were up, your relations and mine too, 
Ernestine, concocted what I have always considered an 
ill-begotten and a miserably selfish plot. Your father, 
unfortunately, yielded to them, for your sake. You 
were told that he had died in prison. He did not. He 
lived through his seven years there, and when he came 
out did so in another name and went abroad on 
the morning of the day of his liberation.” 

“ Good God ! ” she cried. “ And now ! ” 

“ He is dead,” Davenant answered hastily, “ but only 
just lately. Wait a minute. You are going to be 
furiously angry. I know it, and I don’t blame you. 
Only listen for a moment. The scheme was hatched 
up between my father and your two uncles. I have 
always hated it and always protested against it. 
Remember that and be fair to me. This is how they 
reasoned. Your father’s health, they said, was ruined, 
and if he lives the seven years what is there left 
for him when he comes out ? He was a man, as you 
know, of aristocratic and fastidious tastes. He would 
have the best of everything—society, clubs, sport. 
Now all these were barred against him. If he had 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


135 


reappeared he could not have shown his face in 
Pall Mall, or on the racecourses, and every moment of 
his life would be full of humiliations and bitterness. 
Virtually then, for such a man as he was, life in 
England was over. Then there was you. You were 
a pretty child and the Earl had no children. If your 
father was dead the story would be forgotten, you 
would marry brilliantly and an ugly page in the family 
history would be blotted out. That was how they 
looked at it—it was how they put it to your father.” 

“ He consented ? ” 

“Yes, he consented! He saw the wisdom of it 
for your sake, for the sake of the family, even 
for his own sake. The Earl settled an income 
upon him and he left England secretly on the morning 
of his release. We had the news of his death only 
a week or two ago.” 

She stood up, her eyes blazing, her hands clenched 
together. 

“I thank God,” she said “that I have found the 
courage to break away from those people and take 
a little of my life into my own hands. You can 
tell them this if you will, Cecil,— my uncle Lord 
Davenant, your mother, and whoever had a say in this 
miserable affair. Tell them from me that I know 
the truth and that they are a pack of cowardly, 
unnatural old women. Tell them that so long as 
I live I will never willingly speak to one of them 
again.” 

“ I was afraid you’d take it like that,” he remarked 
dolefully. 

“ Take it like that! ” she repeated in fierce scorn. 





136 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ How else could a woman hear such news? How else 
do you suppose she could feel to be told that she 
had been hoodwinked, and kept from her duty and 
a man’s heart very likely broken, to save the 
respectability of a worn-out old family. Oh, how 
could they have dared to do it? How could they 
have dared to do it ? ” 

“ It was a beastly mistake,” he admitted. 

A whirlwind of scorn seemed to sweep over her. 
She could keep still no longer. She walked up and 
down the little room. Her hands were clenched, her 
eyes flashing. 

“ To tell me that he was dead—to let him live out 
the rest of his poor life in exile and alone! Did they 
think that I didn’t care? Cecil,” she exclaimed, 
suddenly turning and facing him, “ I always loved my 
father! You may think that I was too young to 
remember him—I wasn’t, I loved him always. When 
I grew up and they told me of his disgrace I was 
bitterly sorry, for I loved his memory—but it made 
no difference. And all the time it was a weak, silly lie ! 
They let him come out, poor father, without a friend 
to speak to him and they hustled him out of the 
country. And I, whose place was there with him, 
never knew! ” 

“ You were only a child, Ernestine. It was twelve 
years ago.” 

“ Child! I may have been only a child, but I should 
have been old enough to know where my place was. 
Thank God I have done with these people and their 
disgusting shibboleth of respectability.” 

“You are a little violent,” he remarked. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


137 


“ Pshaw ! ” She flashed a look of scorn upon him. 
“ You don’t understand ! How should you, you are of 
their kidney—you’re only half a man. Thank God that 
my mother was of the people! I’d have died to have gone 
smirking through life with a brick for a heart and milk 
and water in my veins! Of all the stupid pieces 
of brutality I ever heard of, this is the most callous 
and the most heartbreaking.” 

“ It was a great mistake,” he said, “ but I believe 
they did it for the best.” 

She sat down with a little gesture of despair. 

“ I really think you’d better go away, Cecil,” she said. 
“ You exasperate me too horribly. I shall strike you 
or throw something at you soon. Did it for the best! 
What a miserable whine! Poor dear old dad, to think 
that they should have done this thing.” 

She buried her face in her handkerchief and sobbed 
for the second time since her childhood. Davenant 
was wise enough to attempt no sort of consolation. 
He leaned a little forward and hid his own face with 
the palm of his hand. When at last she looked up her 
face had cleared and her tone was less bitter. It would 
have gone very hard with the Earl of Eastchester,how¬ 
ever, if he had called to see his niece just then. 

“ Well,” she said, “ I want to know now why, after 
keeping silent all this time, you thought it best to tell 
me the truth this afternoon?” 

“Because,” he answered, “you told me that you 
had just been to see Scarlett Trent!” 

“ And what on earth had that to do with it ? ” 

“Because Scarlett Trent was with your father 
when he died. They were on an excursion somewhere 


138 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


up in the bush—the very excursion that laid the 
foundation of Trent’s fortune.” 

“Go on,” she cried. “ Tell me all that you know! 
this is wonderful! ” 

“Well, I am glad to tell you this at any rate,” 
he said. “ I always liked your father and I saw him 
off when he left England, and have written to him 
often since. I believe I was his only correspondent in 
this country, except his solicitors. He had a very 
adventurous and, I am afraid, not a very happy time. 
He never wrote cheerfully, and he mortgaged the 
greater part of his income. I don’t blame him for 
anything he did. A man needs some responsibility, or 
some one dependent upon him to keep straight. To 
be frank with you, I don’t think he did.” 

“Poor dad,” she murmured, “of course he didn’t! 
I know I’d have gone to the devil as fast as I could if 
I’d been treated like it! ” 

“ Well, he drifted about from place to place and 
at last he got to the Gold Coast. Here I half lost 
sight of him, and his few letters were more bitter 
and despairing than ever. The last I had told me that 
he was just off on an expedition into the interior with 
another Englishman. They were to visit a native King 
and try to obtain from him certain concessions, in¬ 
cluding the right to work a wonderful gold-mine 
somewhere near the village of Bekwando.” 

“ Why, the great Bekwando Land Company ! ” she 
cried. “ It is the one Scarlett Trent has just formed a 
syndicate to work.” 

Davenant nodded. 

“Yes. It was a terrible risk they were running,” he 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


139 


said, “ for the people were savage and the climate 
deadly. He wrote cheerfully for him, though. He had 
a partner, he said, who was strong and determined, and 
they had presents, to get which he had mortgaged the 
last penny of his income. It was a desperate enter¬ 
prise perhaps, but it suited him, and he went on 
to tell me this, Ernestine. If he succeeded and he 
became wealthy, he was returning to England just 
for a sight of you. He was so changed, he said, 
that no one in the world would recognise him. 
Poor fellow ! It was the last line I had from him.” 

“And you are sure,” Ernestine said slowly, “that 
Scarlett Trent was his partner ? ” 

“ Absolutely. Trent’s own story clinches the matter. 
The prospectus of the mine quotes the concession 
as having been granted to him by the King of 
Bekwando in the same month as your father wrote 
to me.” 

“And what news,” she asked, “have you had 
since ? ” 

“ Only this letter—I will read it to you—from one of 
the missionaries of the Basle Society. I heard nothing 
for so long that I made inquiries, and this is the 
result.” 

Ernestine took it and read it out steadily. 

“ Fortnrenig. 

“Dear Sir, —In reply to your letter and inquiry, 
respecting the whereabouts of a Mr. Kichard Grey, the 
matter was placed in my hands by the agent of 
Messrs. Castle, and I have personally visited Bucko- 
mari, the village at which he was last heard of. It 


140 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


seems that in February, 18— he started on an 
expedition to Bekwando in the interior with an 
Englishman by the name of Trent, with a view to 
buying land from a native King, or obtaining the 
concession to work the valuable gold-mines of that 
country. The expedition seems to have been success¬ 
ful, but Trent returned alone and reported that his 
companion had been attacked by bush-fever on the 
way back and had died in a few hours. 

“I regret very much having to send you such sad 
and scanty news in return for your handsome donation 
to our funds. I have made every inquiry, but cannot 
trace any personal effects or letter. Mr. Grey, I find, 
was known out here altogether by the nickname of 
Monty. 

“I deeply regret the pain which this letter will doubt¬ 
less cause you, and trusting that you may seek and 
receive consolation where alone it may be found, 

“ I am, 

“ Yours most sincerely, 

“ Chas. Addison.” 

Ernestine read the letter carefully through, and 
instead of handing it back to Davenant, put it into her 
pocket when she rose up. “ Cecil,” she said, “I want 
you to leave me at once! You may come back 
to-morrow at the same time. I am going to think 
this out quietly.” 

He took up his hat. “There is one thing more, 
Ernestine,” he said slowly. “ Enclosed in the letter 
from the missionary at Attra was another and a shorter 
note, which, in accordance with his request, I burnt as 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


141 


soon as I read it. I believe the man was honest when 
he told me that for hours he had hesitated whether to 
send me those few lines or not. Eventually he decided 
to do so, but he appealed to my honour to destroy the 
note as soon as I had read it.” 

“ Well! ” 

“ He thought it his duty to let me know that there 
had been rumours as to how your father met his death. 
Trent, it seems, had the reputation of being a reckless 
and daring man, and, according to some agreement 
which they had, he profited enormously by your 
father’s death. There seems to have been no really 
definite ground for the rumour except that the body was 
not found where Trent said that he had died. Apart 
from that, life is held cheap out there, and although 
your father was in delicate health, his death under 
such conditions could not fail to be suspicious. I hope 
I haven’t said too much. I’ve tried to put it to you 
exactly as it was put to me ! ” 

“ Thank you,” Ernestine said, “ I think I under¬ 
stand.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


D INNER at the Lodge that night was not a very 
lively affair. Trent had great matters in his brain 
and was not in the least disposed to make conversation 
for the sake of his unbidden guests. Da Souza’s few 
remarks he treated with silent contempt, and Mrs. Da 
Souza he answered only in monosyllables. Julie, 
nervous and depressed, stole away before dessert, and 
Mrs. Da Souza soon followed her, very massive, and 
frowning with an air of offended dignity. Da Souza, 
who opened the door for them, returned to his seat, 
moodily flicking the crumbs from his trousers with his 
serviette. 

“Hang it all, Trent,” he remarked in an aggrieved 
tone, “ you might be a bit more amiable ! Nice lively 
dinner for the women I must say.” 

“ One isn’t usually amiable to guests who stay when 
they’re not asked,” Trent answered gruffly. “ However, 
if I hadn’t much to say to your wife and daughter, I 
have a word or two to say to you, so fill up your glass 
and listen.” 

Da Souza obeyed, but without heartiness. He 
stretched himself out in his chair and looked down 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 142 


thoughtfully at the large expanse of shirt-front, in the 
centre of which flashed an enormous diamond. 

“ I’ve been into the City to-day as you know,’* Trent 
continued, “ and I found as I expected that you have 
been making efforts to dispose of your share in the 
Bekwando Syndicate.” 

“ I can assure you-” 

“ Oh rot! ” Trent interrupted. “ I know what I’m 
talking about. I won’t have you sell out. Do you 
hear ? If you try it on I’ll queer the market for you at 
any risk. I won’t marry your daughter, I won’t be 
blackmailed, and I won’t be bullied. We’re in this 
together, sink or swim. If you pull me down you’ve 
got to come too. I’ll admit that if Monty were to 
present himself in London to-morrow and demand his 
full pound of flesh we should be ruined, but he isn’t 
going to do it. By your own showing there is no 
immediate risk, and you’ve got to leave the thing in my 
hands to do what I think best. If you play any hanky- 
panky tricks—look here, Da Souza, I’ll kill you, sure! 
Do you hear ? I could do it, and no one would be the 
wiser so far as I was concerned You take notice of 
what I say, Da Souza. You’ve made a fortune, and be 
satisfied. That’s all! ” 

“You won’t marry Julie, then?” Da Souza said 
gloomily. 

“No, I’m shot if I will!” Trent answered. “And 
look here, Da Souza, I’m leaving here for town to¬ 
morrow—taken a furnished flat in Dover Street—you 
can stay here if you want, but there’ll only be a care¬ 
taker in the place. That’s all I’ve got to say. Make 
yourself at home with the port and cigars. Last night, 




A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


now! You’ll excuse me! I want a breath of 
lir.” 

it strolled through the open window into the 
, and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He was a 
't. : i an again now. He had created new dangers—a 
lemy to face—but what did he care ? All his life 
een spent in facing dangers and conquering 
enemies. What he had done before he could do 
again! As he lit a pipe and walked to and fro, 
he felt that this new state of things lent a certain 
savour to life — took from it a certain sensation 
of finality not altogether agreeable, which his recent 
great achievements in the financial world Seemed to 
have inspired. After all, what could Da Souza do ? 
His prosperity was altogether bound up in the success 
of the Bekwando Syndicate—he was never the man to 
kill the goose which was laying such a magnificent 
stock of golden eggs. The affair, so far as he was con¬ 
cerned, troubled him scarcely at all on cool reflection. 
As he drew near the little plantation he even forgot all 
about it. Something else was filling his thoughts! 

Tlit change in him became physical as well as 
mental. The hard face of the man softened, what 
there was of coarseness in its rugged outline became 
altogether toned down. He pushed open the gate with 
fingers which were almost reverent; he came at last to 
a halt in the exact spot where he had seen her first. 
Perhaps it was at that moment he realised most com¬ 
pletely and clearly the curious thing which had come 
to him—to him of all men, hard-hearted, material, an 
utter stranger in the world of feminine things. With 
a pleasant sense of self-abandonment he groped about, 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


145 


searching for its meaning. He was a man who liked 
to understand thoroughly everything he saw and felt, 
and this new atmosphere in which he found himself 
was a curious source of excitement to him. Only he 
knew that the central figure of it all was this girl, that 
he had come out here to think about her, and that 
henceforth she had become to him the standard of 
those things which were worth having in life. Every¬ 
thing about her had been a revelation to him. The 
women whom he had come across in his battle upwards, 
barmaids and their fellows, fifth-rate actresses, occasion¬ 
ally the suburban wife of a prosperous City man, had 
impressed him only with a sort of coarse contempt. It 
was marvellous how thoroughly and clearly he had 
recognised Ernestine at once as a type of that other 
world of womenkind, of which he admittedly knew 
nothing. Yet it w^as so short a time since she had 
wandered into his life, so short a time that he was even 
a little uneasy at the wonderful strength of this new 
passion, a thing which had leaped up like a forest tree 
in a world of magic, a live, fully-growm thing, mighty 
and immovable in a single night. He found himself 
thinking of all the other things in life from a changed 
standpoint. His sense of proportions was altered, his 
financial triumphs were no longer omnipotent. He 
was inclined even to brush them aside, to consider 
i them more as an incident in his career. He associated 
her now with all those plans concerning the future 
vvhich he had been dimly formulating since the climax 
)f his successes had come. She was of the world which 
he sought to enter—at once the stimulus and the object 
of his desires. He forgot all about Da Souza and his 
10 




146 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


threats, about the broken-down, half-witted old man 
who was gazing with wistful eyes across the ocean 
which kept him there, an exile—he remembered 
nothing save the wonderful, new thing which had come 
into his life. A month ago he would have scoffed at 
the idea of there being anything worth considering 
outside the courts and alleys of the money-changers’ 
market. To-night he knew of other things. To-night 
he knew that all he had done so far was as nothing— 
that as yet his foot was planted only on the threshold 
of life, and in the path along which he must hew his 
way lay many fresh worlds to conquer. To-night he 
told himself that he was equal to them all. There was 
something out here in the dim moonlight, something 
suggested by the shadows, the rose-perfumed air, the 
delicate and languid stillness, which crept into his veins 
and coursed through his blood like magic. 

* * * * • 

Yet every now and then the same thought came; it 
lay like a small but threatening black shadow across all 
those brilliant hopes and dreams which were filling his 
brain. So far he had played the game of life as a hard 
man, perhaps, and a selfish one, but always honestly. 
Now, for the first time, he had stepped aside from the 
beaten track. He told himself that he was not bound 
to believe Da Souza’s story, that he had left Monty 
with the honest conviction that he was past all human 
help. Yet he knew that such consolation was the 
merest sophistry. Through the twilight, as he passed 
to and fro, he fancied more than once that the wan 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTERDAY 


147 


face of an old man, with wistful, sorrowing eyes, was 
floating somewhere before him—and he stopped to 
listen with bated breath to the wind rustling in the 
elm-trees, fancying he could hear that same passionate 
cry ringing still in his ears—the cry of an old man 
parted from his kin and waiting for death in a lonely 
land. 



CHAPTER XIX 


E RNESTINE found a letter on her plate a few 
mornings afterwards which rather puzzled her. 
It was from a firm of solicitors in Lincoln’s Inn—the 
Eastchester family solicitors—requesting her to call 
that morning to see them on important business. 
There was not a hint as to the nature of it, merely a 
formal line or two and a signature. Ernestine, who 
had written insulting letters to all her relatives during 
the last few days, smiled as she laid it down. Perhaps 
the family had called upon Mr. Cuthbert to undertake 
their defence and bring her round to a reasonable 
view of things. The idea was amusing enough, but her 
first impulse was not to go. Nothing but the combina¬ 
tion of an idle morning and a certain measure of 
curiosity induced her to keep the appointment. 

She was evidently expected, for she was shown at 
once into the private office of the senior partner. The 
clerk who ushered her in pronounced her name indis¬ 
tinctly, and the elderly man who rose from his chair at 
her entrance looked at her inquiringly. 

“ I am Miss Wendermott,” she said, coming forward. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


149 


“ I had a letter from you this morning; you wished to 
see me, I believe.” 

Mr. Cuthbert dropped at once his eyeglass and his 
inquiring gaze, and held out his hand. 

“ My dear Miss Wendermott,” he said, “ you must 
pardon the failing eyesight of an old man. To be sure 
you are, to be sure. Sit down, Miss Wendermott, if 
you please. Dear me, what a likeness ! ” 

“ You mean to my father? ” she asked quietly. 

“ To your father, certainly, poor, dear old boy! 
You must excuse me, Miss Wendermott. Your father 
and I were at Eton together, and I think I may say 
that we were always something more than lawyer 
and client—a good deal more, a good deal more! He 
was a fine fellow at heart—a fine, dear fellow. Bless 
me, to think that you are his daughter! ” 

“It’s very nice to hear you speak of him so, Mr. 
Cuthbert,” she said. “ My father may have been very 
foolish—I suppose he was really worse than foolish— 
but I think that he was most abominably and shame¬ 
fully treated, and so long as I live I shall never forgive 
those who were responsible for it. I don’t mean 
you, Mr. Cuthbert, of course. I mean my grand¬ 
father and my uncle.” Mr. Cuthbert shook his head 
slowly. 

“The Earl,” he said, “was a very proud man—a 
very proud man.” 

“You may call it pride,” she exclaimed. “ I call it 
rank and brutal selfishness ! They had no right to 
force such a sacrifice upon him. He would have been 
content, I am sure, to have lived quietly in England— 
to have kept out of their way, to have conformed to 





150 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


their wishes in any reasonable manner. But to rob 
him of home and friends and family and name—well, 
may God call them to account for it, and judge them as 
they judged him ! ” 

“ I was against it,” he said sadly, “ always.” 

“ So Mr. Davenant told me,” she said. “ I can’t 
quite forgive you, Mr. Cuthbert, for letting me grow up 
and be so shamefully imposed upon, but of course I 
don’t blame you as I do the others. I am only 
thankful that I have made myself independent of my 
relations. I think, after the letters which I wrote to 
them last night, they will be quite content to let me 
remain where they put my father—outside their 
lives.” 

“ I had heard,” Mr. Cuthbert said hesitatingly, “ that 
you were following some occupation. Something 
literary, is it not ? ” 

“ I am a journalist,” Ernestine answered promptly, 
“ and I’m proud to say that I am earning my own 
living.” 

He looked at her with a fine and wonderful curiosity. 
In his way he was quite as much one of the old school 
as the Earl of Eastchester, and the idea of a lady—a 
Wendermott, too—calling herself a journalist and 
proud of making a few hundreds a year was amazing 
enough to him. He scarcely knew how to answer 
her. 

“ Yes, yes,” he said, “ you have some of your father’s 
spirit, some of his pluck too. And that reminds me— 
we wrote to you to call.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Mr. Davenant has told you that your father was 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


151 


engaged in some enterprise with this wonderful Mr. 
Scarlett Trent, when he died.” 

“ Yes ! He told me that! ” 

“Well, I have had a visit just recently from that 
gentleman. It seems that your father when he was 
dying spoke of his daughter in England, and Mr. Trent 
is very anxious now to find you out, and speaks of a 
large sum of money which he wishes to invest in your 
name.” 

“He has been a long time thinking about it,” 
Ernestine remarked. 

“ He explained that,” Mr. Cuthbert continued, “ in 
this way. Your father gave him our address when he 
was dying, but the envelope on which it was written 
got mislaid, and he only came across it a day or two 
ago. He came to see me at once, and he seems pre¬ 
pared to act very handsomely. He pressed very hard 
indeed for your name and address, but I did not feel at 
liberty to disclose them before seeing you.” 

“ You were quite right, Mr. Cuthbert,” she answered. 
“ I suppose this is the reason why Mr. Davenant has 
just told me the whole miserable story.” 

“It is one reason,” he admitted, “ but in any case I 
think that Mr. Davenant had made up his mind that 
you should know.” 

“ Mr. Trent, I suppose, talks of this money as a 
present to me ? ” 

“ He did not speak of it in that way,” Mr. Cuthbert 
answered, “ but in a sense that is, of course, what it 
amounts to. At the same time I should like to say that 
under the peculiar circumstances of the case I should 
consider you altogether justified in accepting it.” 


152 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Ernestine drew herself up. Once more in her finely 
flashing eyes and resolute air the lawyer was reminded 
of his old friend. 

“ I will tell you what I should call it, Mr. Cuthbert,” 
she said, “ I will tell you what I believe it is ! It is 
blood-money.” 

Mr. Cuthbert dropped his eyeglass, and rose from his 
chair, startled. 

“ Blood-money! My dear young lady! Blood- 
money ! ” 

“ Yes ! You have heard the whole story, I suppose ! 
What did it sound like to you ? A valuable concession 
granted to two men, one old, the other young! one 
strong, the other feeble ! yet the concession read, if one 
should die the survivor should take the whole. Who 
put that in, do you suppose ? Not my father! you may 
be sure of that. And one of them does die, and 
Scarlett Trent is left to take everything. Do you think 
that reasonable? I don’t. Now, you say, after all 
this time he is fired with a sudden desire to behave 
handsomely to the daughter of his dead partner. 
Fiddlesticks! I know Scarlett Trent, although he 
little knows who I am, and he isn’t that sort of man at 
all. He’d better have kept away from you altogether, 
for I fancy he’s put his neck in the noose now! I do 
not want his money, but there is something I do want 
from Mr. Scarlett Trent, and that is the whole know¬ 
ledge of my father’s death.” 

Mr. Cuthbert sat down heavily in his chair. 

“ But, my dear young lady,” he said, “ you do not 
suspect Mr. Trent of—er—making away with your 
father ! ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


153 


“ And why not ? According to his own showing 
they were alone together when he died. What was to 
prevent it ? I want to know more about it, and I am 
going to, if I have to travel to the Gold Coast myself. 
I will tell you frankly, Mr. Cuthbert—I suspect Mr. 
Scarlett Trent. .No, don’t interrupt me. It may seem 
absurd to you now that he is Mr. Scarlett Trent, 
millionaire, with the odour of civilisation clinging to 
him, and the respectability of wealth. But I, too, have 
seen him, and I have heard him talk. He has helped 
me to see the other man—half-savage, splendidly 
masterful, forging his way through to success by sheer 
pluck and unswerving obstinacy. Listen, I admire your 
Mr. Trent! He is a man, and when he speaks to you 
you know that he was born with a destiny. But there 
is the other side. Do you think that he would let a 
man’s life stand in his way ? Not he ! He’d commit a 
murder, or would have done in those days, as readily as 
you or I would sweep away a fly. And it is because he 
is that sort of man that I want to know more about my 
father’s death.” 

“You are talking of serious things, Miss Wender- 
mott,” Mr. Cuthbert said gravely. 

“Why not? Why shirk them? My father’s death 
was a serious thing, wasn’t it ? I want an account of 
it from the only man who can render it.” 

“ When you disclose yourself to Mr. Trent I sho^fld 
say that he would willingly give you-” 

She interrupted him, coming over and standing 
before him, leaning against his table, and looking him 
in the face. 

“ You don’t understand. I am not going to disclose 



154 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


myself! Yon will reply to Mr. Trent that the daughter 
of his old partner is not in need of charity, however 
magnificently tendered. You understand ? ” 

“ I understand, Miss Wendermott.” 

“ As to her name or whereabouts you are not at liberty 
to disclose them. You can let him think, if you will, 
that she is tarred with the same brush as those in¬ 
famous and hypocritical relatives of hers who sent her 
father out to die.” 

Mr. Cuthbert shook his head. 

“ I think, young lady, if you will allow me to say so, 
that you are making a needless mystery of the matter, 
and further, that you are embarking upon what will 
certainly prove to be a wild-goose chase. We had 
news of your father not long before his sad death, and 
he was certainly in ill-health.” 

She set her lips firmly together, and there was a look 
in her face which alone was quite sufficient to deter 
Mr. Cuthbert from further argument. 

“ It may be a wild-goose chase,” she said. “ It may 
not. At any rate nothing will alter my purpose. 
Justice sleeps sometimes for very many years, but I 
have an idea that Mr. Scarlett Trent may yet have to 
face a day of settlement.” 

* * * * * 

She walked through the crowded streets homewards, 
her nerves tingling and her pulses throbbing with ex¬ 
citement. She was conscious of having somehow 
ridded herself of a load of uncertainty and anxiety. 
She was committed now at any rate to a definite course. 
There had been moments of indecision—moments in 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


155 


which she had been inclined to revert to her first im¬ 
pressions of the man, which, before she had heard 
Davenant’s story, had been favourable enough. That 
was all over now. That pitifully tragic figure—the 
man who died with a tardy fortune in his hands, an 
outcast in a far off country—had stirred in her heart a 
passionate sympathy—reason even gave way before it. 
She declared war against Mr. Scarlett Trent. 


CHAPTER XX 

E RNESTINE walked from Lincoln’s Inn to the 
office of the Hour , where she stayed until nearly 
four. Then, having finished her day’s work, she made 
her w T ay homewards. Davenant was waiting for her in 
her rooms. She greeted him with some surprise. 

“You told me that I might come to tea,” he re¬ 
minded her. “ If you’re expecting any one else, or I’m 
in the way at all, don’t mind saying so, please! ” 

She shook her head. 

“I’m certainly not expecting any one,” she said. 
“ To tell you the truth my visiting-list is a very small 
one; scarcely any one knows where I live. Sit down, 
and I will ring for tea.” 

He looked at her curiously. “ What a colour you 
have, Ernestine ! ” he remarked. “ Have you been 
walking fast ? ” 

She laughed softly, and took off her hat, straighten¬ 
ing the wavy brown hair, which had escaped bounds a 
little, in front of the mirror. She looked at herself 
long and thoughtfully at the delicately cut but strong 

features, the clear, grey eyes and finely arched eye- 
156 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


157 


brows, the curving, humorous mouth and dainty chin. 
Davenant regarded her in amazement. 

“ Why, Ernestine,” he exclaimed, “ are you taking 
stock of your good looks?” 

“ Precisely what I am doing,” she answered laughing. 
“ At that moment I was wondering whether I possessed 
any.” 

“If you will allow me,” he said, “ to take the place 
of the mirror, I think that I could give you any assur¬ 
ances you required.” 

She shook her head. 

“ You might be more flattering,” she said, “ but you 
would be less faithful.” 

He remained standing upon the hearthrug. Ernestine 
returned to the mirror. 

“ May I know,” he asked, “ for whose sake is this 
sudden anxiety about your appearance?” 

She turned away and sat in a low chair, her hands 
clasped behind her head, her eyes fixed upon vacancy. 

“ I have been wondering,” she said, “ whether if I 
set myself to it as to a task I could make a man for a 
moment forget himself — did I say forget ?—I mean 
betray! ” 

“ If I were that man,” he remarked smiling, “ I will 
answer for it that you could.” 

“ You ! But then you are only a boy, you have 
nothing to conceal, and you are partial to me, aren’t 
you? No, the man whom I want to influence is a 
very different sort of person. It is Scarlett Trent.” 

He frowned heavily. “A boor,” he said. “What 
have you to do with him ? The less the better I should 
say.” 


158 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


u And from my point of view, the more the better/’ 
she answered. “ I have come to believe that but for 
him my father would be alive to-day.” 

“ I do not understand ! If you believe that, surely 
you do not wish to see the man—to have him come 
near you! ” 

“ I want him punished ! ” 

He shook his head. “ There is no proof. There 
never could be any proof! ” 

“ There are many ways,” she said softly, “ in which 
a man can be made to suffer.” 

“ And you would set yourself to do this?” 

“ Why not ? Is not anything better than letting him 
go scot-free? Would you have me sit still and watch 
him blossom into a millionaire peer, a man of society, 
drinking deep draughts of all the joys of life, with 
never a thought for the man he left to rot in an 
African jungle ? Oh, any way of punishing him is 
better than that. I have declared war against Scarlett 
Trent.” 

“ How long,” he asked, “ will it last ? ” 

“ Until he is in my power,” she answered slowly. 
“ Until he has fallen back again to the ruck. Until he 
has tasted a little of the misery from which at least he 
might have saved my father ! ” 

“ I think,” he said, “ that you are taking a great deal 
too much for granted. I do not know Scarlett Trent, 
and I frankly admit that I am prejudiced against him 
and all his class. Yet I think that he deserves his 
chance, like any man. Go to him and ask him, face 
to face, how your father died, declare yourself, press 
for all particulars, seek even for corroboration of his 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


159 


word. Treat him if you will as an enemy, but as an 
honourable one! ” 

She shook her head. 

“ The man,” she said, “ has all the plausibility of his 
class. He has learned it in the money school, where 
these things become an art. He believes himself 
secure—he is even now seeking for me. He is all 
prepared with his story. No, my way is best.” 

“ I do not like your way,” he said. “It is not like 
you, Ernestine.” 

“For the sake of those whom one loves,” she said, 
“ one will do much that one hates. When I think that 
but for this man my father might still have been alive, 
might have lived to know how much I loathed those 
w r ho sent him into exile—well, I feel then that there is 
nothing in the world I would not do to crush him ! ” 

He rose to his feet—his fresh, rather boyish, face 
was wrinkled with care. 

“ I shall live to be sorry, Ernestine,” he said, “ that 
I ever told you the truth about your father.” 

“ If I had discovered it for myself,” she said, “ and, 
sooner or later, I should have discovered it, and had 
learned that you too had been in the conspiracy, I 
should never have spoken to you again as long as I 
lived.” 

“ Then I must not regret it,” he said, “only I hate 
the part you are going to play. I hate to think that I 
must stand by and watch, and say nothing.” 

“There is no reason,” she said, “why you should 
watch it; why do you not go away for a time ? ” 

“I cannot,” he answered sadly, “and you know 
why.” 



160 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


She was impatient, but she looked at him for a 
moment with a gleam of sadness in her eyes. 

“It would be much better for you,” she said, “if 
you would make up your mind to put that folly behind 
you.” 

“ It may be folly, but it is not the sort of folly one 

forgets.” 

“ You had better try then, Cecil,” she said, “ for it is 
quite hopeless. You know that. Be a man and leave 
off dwelling upon the impossible. I do not wish to 
marry, and I do not expect to, but if ever I did, it 
would not be you! ” 

He was silent for a few moments—looking gloomily 
across at the girl, loathing the thought that she, his 
ideal of all those things which most become a woman, 
graceful, handsome, perfectly bred, should ever be 
brought into contact at all with such a man as this 
one whose confidence she was planning to gain. No, 
he could not go away and leave her ! He must be at 
hand, must remain her friend. 

“ I wonder,” he said, “ couldn’t we have one of our 
old evenings again ? Listen-” 

“ I would rather not,” she interrupted softly. “ If 
you will persist in talking of a forbidden subject you 
must go away. Be reasonable, Cecil.” 

He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again 
his tone was changed. 

“ Very well,” he said. “ I will try to let things be 
as you wish—for the present. Now do you want to 
hear some news ? ” 

She nodded. 

“ Of course ” 



A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


161 


“It’s about Dick — seems rather a coincidence too. 
He was at the Cape, you know, with a firm of surveyors, 
and he’s been offered a post on the Gold Coast.” 

“ The Gold Coast! How odd ! Anywhere near- ? ” 

“ The offer came from the Bekwando Company! ” 

“ Is he going ? ” 

“Yes.” 

She was full of eager interest. “ How extraordinary ! 
He might be able to make some inquiries for me.” 

He nodded. 

“ What there is to be discovered about Mr. Scarlett 
Trent, he can find out! But, Ernestine, I want you 
to understand this ! I have nothing against the man, 
and although I dislike him heartily, I think it is mad¬ 
ness to associate him in any way with your father’s 
death.” 

“ You do not know him. I do ! ” 

“ I have only told you my opinion,” he answered, “it 
is of no consequence. I will see with your eyes. He 
is your enemy and he shall be my enemy. If there is 
anything shady in his past out there, depend upon it 
Dick will hear of it.” 

She pushed the wavy hair back from her forehead— 
her eyes were bright, and there was a deep flush of 
colour in her cheeks. But the man was not to be 
deceived. He knew that these things were not for 
him. It was the accomplice she welcomed and not 
the man. 

“ It is a splendid stroke of fortune,” she said. “ You 
will write to Fred to-day, won’t you ? Don’t prejudice 
him either way. Write as though your interest were 
merely curiosity. It is the truth I want to get at, that 



162 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


is all. If the man is innocent I wish him no harm— 
only I believe him guilty.” 

“ There was a knock at the door—both turned round. 
Ernestine’s trim little maidservant was announcing a 
visitor who followed close behind. 

“ Mr. Scarlett Trent.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


TpRNE STINE was a delightful hostess, she loved 
situations, and her social tact was illimitable. 
In a few minutes Trent was seated in a comfortable 
and solid chair with a little round table by his side, 
drinking tea and eating buttered scones, and if not 
altogether at his ease very nearly so. Opposite him 
was Davenant, dying to escape yet constrained to be 
agreeable, and animated too with a keen, distasteful 
curiosity to watch Ernestine’s methods. And Ernes¬ 
tine herself chatted all the time, diffused good fellow¬ 
ship and tea—she made an atmosphere which had a 
nameless fascination for the man who had come to 
middle-age without knowing what a home meant. 
Davenant studied him and became thoughtful. He 
took note of the massive features, the iron jaw, the 
eyes as bright as steel, and his thoughtfulness became 
anxiety. Ernestine too was strong, but this man was 
a rock. What would happen if she carried out her 
purpose, fooled, betrayed him, led him perhaps to ruin ? 
Some day her passion would leap up, she would tell 
him, they would be face to face, injured man and 
taunting woman. Davenant had an ugly vision as he 
sat there. He saw the man’s eyes catch fire, the 




164 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


muscles of his face twitch, he saw Ernestine shrink 
back, white with terror and the man followed her. . . . 

“ Cecil! Aren’t you well ? you’re looking positively 
ghastly ! ” 

He pulled himself together—it had been a very 
realistic little interlude. 

“ Bad headache ! ” he said, smiling. “ By the by, I 
must go ! ” 

“If you ever did such a thing as work,” she re¬ 
marked, “ I should say that you had been doing too 
much. As it is, I suppose you have been sitting up 
too late. Goodbye. I am so glad that you were here 
to meet Mr. Trent. Mr. Davenant is my cousin, you 
know,” she continued, turning to her visitor, “and he is 
almost the only one of my family who has not cast me 
off utterly.” 

Davenant made his adieux with a heavy heart. He 
hated the hypocrisy with which he hoped for Scarlett 
Trent’s better acquaintance and the latter’s bluff 
acceptance of an invitation to look him up at his club. 
He walked out into the street cursing his mad offer to 
her and the whole business. But Ernestine was very 
well satisfied. 

She led Trent to talk about Africa again, and he 
plunged into the subject without reserve. He told her 
stories and experiences with a certain graphic and 
picturesque force which stamped him as the possessor 
of an imaginative power and command of words for 
which she would scarcely have given him credit. She 
had the unusual gift of making the best of all those 
with whom she came in contact. Trent felt that he 
was interesting her, and gained confidence in himself. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


165 


All the time she was making a social estimate of 
him. He was not by any means impossible. On the 
contrary there was no reason why he should not 
become a success. That he was interested in her was 
already obvious, but that had become her intention. 
The task began to seem almost easy as she sat and 
listened to him. 

Then he gave her a start. Quietly and witnout any 
warning he changed the subject into one which was 
fraught with embarrassment for her. At his first 
words the colour faded from her cheeks. 

“ I’ve been pretty lucky since I got back. Things 
have gone my way a bit and the only disappointment 
I've had worth speaking of has been in connection 
with a matter right outside money. I've been trying 
to find the daughter of that old partner of mine—I 
told you about her—and I can't.” 

She changed her seat a little. There was no need 
for her to affect any interest in what he was saying. 
She listened to every word intently. 

“ Monty,” he said reflectingly, “ was a good old sort 
in a way, and I had an idea, somehow, that his 
daughter would turn out something like the man him¬ 
self, and at heart Monty was all right. I didn't know 
who she was or her name—Monty was always precious 
close, but I had the address of a firm of lawyers who 
knew all about her. I called there the other day and saw 
an old chap who questioned and cross-questioned me 
until I wasn’t sure whether I was on my head or my 
heels, and, after all, he told me to call again this after¬ 
noon for her address. I told him of course that Monty 
died a pauper and he'd no share of our concession to 


166 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


will away, but I'd done so well that I thought I’d like 
to make over a trifle to her—in fact I'd put away 
^610,000 worth of Bekwando shares for her. I called 
this afternoon, and do you know, Miss Wendermott, 
the young lady declined to have anything to say to me 
—wouldn't let me know who she was that I might 
have gone and talked this over in a friendly way with 
her. Didn't want money, didn't want to hear about 
her father! " 

“You must have been disappointed." 

“I'll admit it," he replied. “I was; I'd come to 
think pretty well of Monty although he was a 
loose fish and I’d a sort of fancy for seeing his 
daughter." 

She took up a screen as though to shield the fire 
from her face. Would the man's eyes never cease 
questioning her—could it be that he suspected ? Surely 
that was impossible! 

“ Why have you never tried to find her before ?" 
she asked. 

“ That's a natural question enough," he admitted. 
“ Well, first, I only came across a letter Monty wrote 
with the address of those lawyers a few days ago, and, 
secondly, the Bekwando Mine and Land Company has 
only just boomed, and you see that made me feel that 
I’d like to give a lift up to any one belonging to poor 
old Monty I could find. I've a mind to go on with the 
thing myself and find out somehow who this young 
lady is!" 

“ Who were the lawyers ? M 

“ Cuthbert and Cuthbert." 

“ They are most respectable people," she said. “ I 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


167 


know Mr. Cuthbert and their standing is very high. 
If Mr. Cuthbert told you that the young lady wished 
to remain unknown to you, I am quite sure that you 
may believe him.” 

“ That's all right,” Trent said, “ but here's what 
puzzles me. The girl may be small enough and mean 
enough to decline to have anything to say to me 
because her father was a bad lot, and she doesn’t want 
to be reminded of him, but for that very reason can 
you imagine her virtually refusing a large sum of 
money ? I told old Cuthbert all about it. There was 
£10,000 worth of shares waiting for her and no need 
for any fuss. Can you understand that ? ” 

“It seems very odd,” she said. “Perhaps the girl 
objects to being given money. It is a large sum to 
take as a present from a stranger.” 

“ If she is that sort of girl,” he said decidedly, “ she 
would at least want to meet and talk with the man 
who saw the last of her father. No, there’s some¬ 
thing else in it, and I think that I ought to find her. 
Don’t you ? ” 

She hesitated. 

“ I’m afraid I can’t advise you,” she said; “ only if 
she has taken so much pains to remain unknown, I 
am not sure—I think that if I were you I would 
assume that she has good reason for it.” 

“ I can see no good reason,” he said, “ and there is a 
mystery behind it which I fancy would be better 
cleared up. Some day I will tell you more about 
it.” 

Evidently Ernestine was weary of the subject, for 
she suddenly changed it. She led him on to talk of 


168 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


other things. When at last he glanced at the clock 
he was horrified to see how long he had stayed. 

“ You’ll remember, I hope, Miss Wendermott,” he 
said, “ that this is the first afternoon call I’ve ever 
paid. I’ve no idea how long I ought to have stayed, 
but certainly not two hours.” 

“The time has passed quickly,” she said, smiling 
upon him, so that his momentary discomfort passed 
away. “ I have been very interested in the stories of 
your past, Mr. Trent, but do you know I am quite as 
much interested, more so even, in your future.” 

“ Tell me what you mean,” he asked. 

“ You have so much before you, so many possibili¬ 
ties. There is so much that you may gain, so much 
that you may miss.” 

He looked puzzled. 

“ I have a lot of money,” he said. “ That’s all! I 
haven’t any friends nor any education worth speaking 
of. I don’t see quite where the possibilities come in.” 

She crossed the room and came over close to his 
side, resting her arm upon the mantelpiece. She was 
still wearing her walking-dress, prim and straight in 
its folds about her tall, graceful figure, and her ha r, 
save for the slight waviness about the forehead, was 
plainly dressed. There were none of the cheap arts 
about her to which Trent had become accustomed in 
women who sought to attract. Yet, as she stood 
looking down at him, a faint smile, half humorous, half 
satirical, playing about the corners of her shapely 
mouth, he felt his heart beat faster than ever it had 
done in any African jungle. It was the nervous and 
emotional side of the man to which she appealed. He 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YE STEED AY 


169 


felt unlike himself, undergoing a new phase of de¬ 
velopment. There was something stirring within him 
which he could not understand. 

“You haven’t any friends,” she said softly, “nor 
any education, but you are a millionaire! That is 
quite sufficient. You are a veritable Caesar with un¬ 
discovered worlds before you.” 

“ I wish I knew what you meant,” he said, with 
some hesitation. 

She laughed softly. 

“ Don’t you understand,” she said, “that you are the 
fashion ? Last year it was Indian Potentates, the year 
before it was actors, this year it is millionaires. You 
have only to announce yourself and you may take any 
place you choose in society. You have arrived at the 
most auspicious moment. I can assure you that 
before many months are past you will know more 
people than ever you have spoken to in your life before 
—men whose names have been household words to 
you and nothing else will be calling you ‘ old chap ’ 
and wanting to sell you horses, and women, who last 
week would look at you through lorgnettes as though 
you were a denizen of some unknown world, will be 
lavishing upon you their choicest smiles and whispering 
in your ear their ‘ not at home ’ afternoon. Oh, it’s 
lucky I’m able to prepare you a little for it, or you 
would be taken quite by storm.” 

He was unmoved. He looked at her with a grim 
tightening of the lips. 

“ I want to ask you this,” he said. “What should 
I be the better for it all ? What use have I for 
friends who only gather round me because I am rich? 


170 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Shouldn’t I be better off to have nothing to do with 
them, to live my own life, and make my own 
pleasures ? ” 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

“These people,” she said, “of whom I have been 
speaking are masters of the situation. You can’t enjoy 
money alone! You want to race, hunt, entertain, 
shoot, join in the revels of country houses ! You must 
be one of them or you can enjoy nothing.” 

Monty’s words were ringing back in his ears. After 
all, pleasures could be bought—but happiness ! 

“ And you,” he said, “ you too think that these 
things you have mentioned are the things most to be 
desired in life ? ” 

A certain restraint crept into her manner. 

“Yes,” she answered simply. 

“ I have been told,” he said, “ that you have given 
up these things to live your life differently. That you 
choose to be a worker. You have rich relations—you 
could be rich yourself ! ” 

She looked him steadily in the face. 

“ You are wrong,” she said, “ I have no money. I 
have not chosen a profession willingly—only because I 
am poor! ” 

“Ah!” 

The monosyllable was mysterious to her. But for 
the wild improbability of the thing she would have 
wondered whether indeed he knew her secret. She 
brushed the idea away. It was impossible. 

“ At least,” he said, “ you belong to these people.” 

“ Yes,” she answered, “lam one of the poor young 
women of society.” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 171 


“ And you would like,” he continued, “to be one of 
the rich ones—to take your place amongst them on 
equal terms. That is what you are looking forward to 
in life! ” 

She laughed gaily. 

“ Of course I am ! If there was the least little chance 
of it I should be delighted. You mustn’t think that I’m 
different from other girls in that respect because I’m 
more independent. In this country there’s only one 
way of enjoying life thoroughly, and that you will find 
out for yourself very soon.” 

He rose and held out his hand. 

“ Thank you very much,” he said, “for letting me 
come. May I-” 

“ You may come,” she said quietly, “ as often as you 
like.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


M R. SCARLETT TRENT, the Gold King, left 
for Africa on Thursday last on the Dunottar 
Castle , to pay a brief visit to his wonderful possessions 
there before the great Bekwando Mining and Explora¬ 
tion Company is offered to the public. Mr. Trent is 
already a millionaire, and should he succeed in floating 
the Company on the basis of the Prospectus, he will 
be a multi-millionaire, and certainly one of the richest 
of Englishmen. During his absence workmen are to 
be kept going night and day at his wonderful palace in 
Park Lane, which he hopes to find ready for occupa¬ 
tion on his return. Mr. Trent’s long list of financial 
successes are too well known to be given here, but who 
will grudge wealth to a man who is capable of spending 
it in such a lordly fashion ? We wish Mr. Trent a safe 
voyage and a speedy return.” 

The paper slipped from his fingers and he looked 
thoughtfully out seaward. It was only one paragraph 
of many, and the tone of all was the same. Ernestine’s 
words had come true—he was already a man of note. 
A few months had changed his life in the most amazing 
way—when he looked back upon it now it was with a 

172 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


173 


sense of unreality—surely all these things which had 
happened were part of a chimerical dream. It was 
barely possible for him to believe that it was he, 
Scarlett Trent, who had developed day by day into 
what he was at that moment. For the man was 
changed in a hundred ways. His grey flannel clothes 
was cut by the Saville Row tailor of the moment, his 
hands and hair, his manner of speech and carriage 
were all altered. He recalled the men he had met, 
the clubs he had joined, his stud of horses at New¬ 
market, the country-houses at which he had visited. 
His most clear impression of the whole thing was how 
easy everything had been made for him. His oddness 
of speech, his gaucheries , his ignorances and nervous¬ 
ness had all been so lightly treated that they had been 
brushed away almost insensibly. He had been able to 
do so little that was wrong—his mistakes were ignored 
or admired as originality, and yet in some delicate way 
the right thing had been made clear to him. Ernestine 
had stood by his side, always laughing at this swift 
fulfilment of her prophecy, always encouraging him, 
always enigmatic. Yet at the thought of her a vague 
sense of trouble crept into his heart. He took a worn 
photograph from his pocket and looked at it long and 
searchingly, and when he put it away he sighed. It 
made no difference of course, but he would rather have 
found her like that, the child with sweet, trustful eyes 
and a laughing mouth. Was there no life at all, then, 
outside this little vortex into which at her bidding he 
had plunged? Would she never have been content 
with anything else ? He looked across the placid, blue 
sea to where the sun gleamed like silver on a white 


174 A MILLION AIBE OF YE STEED AY 


sail, and sighed again. He must make himself what 
she would have him. There was no life for him 
without her. 

The captain came up for his morning chat and some 
of the passengers, who eyed him with obvious respect, 
lingered for a moment about his chair on their prome¬ 
nade. Trent lit a cigar and presently began to stroll 
up and down himself. The salt sea-air was a wonder¬ 
ful tonic to him after the nervous life of the last few 
months. He found his spirits rapidly rising. This 
voyage had been undertaken in obedience to a sudden 
but overpowering impulse. It had come to him one 
night that he must know for himself how much truth 
there was in Da Souza’s story. He could not live with 
the thought that a thunderbolt was ever in the skies, 
that at any moment his life might lie wrecked about 
him. He was going out by one steamer and back by 
the next, the impending issue of his great Company 
afforded all the excuse that was necessary. If Da 
Souza’s story was true—well, there were many things 
which might be done, short of a complete disclosure. 
Monty might be satisfied, if plenty of money were 
forthcoming, to abandon his partnership and release 
the situation from its otherwise endless complications. 
Trent smoked his cigar placidly and, taking off his cap 
bared his head to the sweeping sea-wind, which seemed 
laden with life and buoyancy. Suddenly as he swung 
round by the companion-way he found himself con¬ 
fronted by a newcomer who came staggering out from 
the gangway. There was a moment’s recoil and a 
sharp exclamation. Trent stood quite still and a 
heavy frown darkened his face. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


175 


“ Da Souza ! ” he exclaimed. “ How on earth came 
you on board ? ” 

Da Souza’s face was yellower than ever and he wore 
an ulster buttoned up to his chin. Yet there was a 
flash of malice in his eyes as he answered— 

“I came by late tender at Southampton,” he said. 
“ It cost me a special from London and the agents told 
me I couldn’t do it, but here I am, you see ! ” 

“ And a poor-looking object you are,” Trent said 
contemptuously. “ If you’ve life enough in you to 
talk, be so good as to tell me what the devil you 
mean by following me like this! ” 

“I came,” Da Souza answered, “in both our 
interests—chiefly in my own ! ” 

“I can believe that,” Trent answered shortly, “now 
speak up. Tell me what you want.” 

Da Souza groaned and sank down upon a vacant 
deck-chair. 

“I will sit down,” he said, “I am not well! The 
sea disagrees with me horribly. Well, well, you want 
to know why I came here ! I can answer that question 
by another. What are you doing here ? Why are you 
going to Africa ? ” 

“ I am going,” Trent said, “ to see how much truth 
there was in that story you told me. I am going to 
see old Monty if he is alive.” 

Da Souza groaned. 

“ It is cruel madness,” he said, “ and you are such 
an obstinate man ! Oh dear ! oh dear! ” 

“ I prefer,” Trent said, “ a crisis now, to ruin in 
the future. Besides, I have the remnants of a 
conscience.” 


176 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ You will ruin yourself, and you will ruin me,” Da 
Souza moaned. “ How am I to have a quarter share 
if Monty is to come in for half, and how are you to 
repay him all that you would owe on a partnership 
account? You couldn’t do it, Trent. I’ve heard of 
your four-in-hand, and your yacht, and your racers, and 
that beautiful house in Park Lane. I tell you that to 
part with half your fortune would ruin you, and the 
Bekwando Company could never be floated.” 

“I don’t anticipate parting with half,” Trent said 
coolly. “ Monty hasn’t long to live—and he ought not 
to be hard to make terms with.” 

Da Souza beat his hands upon the handles of his 
deck-chair. 

“But why go near him at all? He thinks that you 
are dead. He has no idea that you are in England. 
Why should he know? Why do you risk ruin like 
this ? ” 

“ There are three reasons,” Trent answered. “ First, 
he may find his way to England and upset the apple¬ 
cart ; secondly, I’ve only the shreds of a conscience, 
but I can’t leave a man whom I’m robbing of a fortune 
in a state of semi-slavery, as I daresay he is, and the 
third reason is perhaps the strongest of all; but I’m 
not going to tell it you.” 

Da Souza blinked his little eyes and looked up with 
a cunning smile. 

“ Your first reason,” he said, “ is a poor sort of one. 
Do you suppose I don’t have him looked after a bit ?— 
no chance of his getting back to England, I can tell 
you. As for the second, he’s only half-witted, and if 
he was better off he wouldn’t know it.” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


177 


< “ Even if I gave way to you in this,” Trent answered, 

“the third reason is strong enough.” 

Da Souza’s face was gloomy. “ I know it’s no use 
trying to move you,” he said, “ but you’re on a silly, 
dangerous, wild goose-chase.” 

“And what about yourself?” Trent asked. “I 
I imagine you have some other purpose in taking this 
voyage than just to argue with me.” 

1 “ I am going to see,” Da Souza said, “ that you do 

as little mischief as possible.” 

Trent walked the length of the deck and back. 

“Da Souza,” he said, stopping in front of him, 
you’re a fool to take this voyage. You know me 
/ell enough to be perfectly assured that nothing you 
jould say would ever influence me. There’s more 
behind it. You’ve a game of your own to play over 
there. Now listen ! If I catch you interfering with 
me in any way, we shall meet on more equal terms 
, than when you laughed at my revolver at Walton 
' jodge! I never was over-scrupulous in those old 
days, Da Souza, you know tl at, and I have a fancy 
that when I find myself on African soil again I may 
find something of the old man in me yet. So look 
out, my friend, I’ve no mind to be trifled with, and, 
mark me—if harm comes to that old man, it will be 
, your life for his, as I’m a living man. You were 
afraid of me once, Da Souza. I haven’t changed 
so much as you may think, and the Gold Coast 
isn’t exactly the centre of civilisation. There ! I’ve 
aid my say. The less I see of you now till we 
land, the better I shall be pleased.” 

He walked away and was challenged by the Doctor 
12 





178 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


to a game of shuffleboard. Da Souza remained 
in bis cbair, bis eyes blinking as though with the 
sun, and his hands gripping nervously the sides of 
his chair. 






CHAPTEE XXIII 

A FTEB six weeks’ incessant throbbing the great 
engines were still, and the Bunottar Castle lay at 
anchor a mile or two from the African coast and off 
the town of Attra. The heat, which in motion had 
been hard enough to bear, was positively stifling now. 
The sun burned down upon the glassy sea and the 
white deck till the varnish on the rails cracked and 
blistered, and the sweat streamed like water from the 
faces of the labouring seamen. Below at the ship’s 
side half a dozen surf boats were waiting, manned by 
Kru boys, who alone seemed perfectly comfortable, and 
cheerful as usual. All around were preparations for 
landing—boxes were being hauled up from the hold, 
and people were going about in reach of small parcels 
and deck-chairs and missing acquaintances. Trent, in 
white linen clothes and puggaree, was leaning over the 
railing, gazing towards the town, when Da Souza came 
up to him— 

“ Last morning, Mr. Trent! ” 

Trent glanced round and nodded. 

“ Are you disembarking here ? ” he asked. 

Da Souza admitted the fact. “ My brother will 

179 



180 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


meet me,” he said. “He is very afraid of the surf- 
boats, or he would have come out to the steamer. 
You remember him?” 

“ Yes, I remember him,” Trent answered. “ He 
was not the sort of person one forgets.” 

“ He is a very rough diamond,” Da Souza said 
apologetically. “ He has lived here so long that he has 
become almost half a native.” 

‘‘And the other half a thief,” Trent muttered. 

Da Souza was not in the least offended. 

“ I am afraid,” he admitted, “ that his morals are 
not up to the Threadneedle Street pitch, eh, Mr. 
Trent ? But he has made quite a great deal of money. 
Oh, quite a sum I can assure you. He sends me some 
over to invest! ” 

“Well, if he’s carrying on the same old game,” 
Trent remarked, “ he ought to be coining it! By the 
by, of course he knows exactly where Monty is ? ” 

“ It is what I was about to say,” Da Souza assented, 
with a vigorous nod of the head. “ Now, my dear Mr. 
Trent, I know that you will have your way. It is no 
use my trying to dissuade you, so listen. You shall 
waste no time in searching for Monty. My brother 
will tell you exactly where he is.” 

Trent hesitated. He would have preferred to have 
nothing at all to do with Da Souza, and the very 
thought of Oom Sam made him shudder. On the other 
hand, time was valuable to him and he might waste 
weeks looking for the man whom Oom Sam could tell 
him at once where to find. On the whole, it was better 
to accept Da Souza’s offer. 

“Very well, Da Souza,” he said, “ I have no time to 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


181 


spare in this country and the sooner I get back to 
England the better for all of us. If your brother 
knows where Monty is, so much the better for both of 
us. We will land together and meet him.” 

Already the disembarking had commenced. Da 
Souza and Trent took their places side by side on the 
broad, flat-bottomed boat, and soon they were off 
shorewards and the familiar song of the Kru boys as 
they bent over their oars greeted their ears. The 
excitement of the last few strokes was barely over 
before they sprang upon the beach and were surrounded 
by a little crowd, on the outskirts of whom was 
Oom Sam. Trent was seized upon by an Englishman 
w r ho was representing the Bekwando Land and Mining 
Investment Company and, before he could regain Da 
Souza, a few rapid sentences had passed between the 
latter and his brother in Portuguese. Oom Sam 
advanced to Trent hat in hand— 

“ Welcome back to Attra, senor ? ” 

Trent nodded curtly. 

“ Place isn’t much changed,” he remarked. 

“ It is very slowly here,” Oom Sam said, “ that 
progress is made! The climate is too horrible. It 
makes dead sheep of men.” 

“You seem to hang on pretty well,” Trent remarked 
carelessly. “ Been up country lately? ” 

“ I was trading with the King of Bekwando a month 
ago,” Oom Sam answered. 

“Palm-oil and mahogany for vile rum I suppose,” 
Trent said. 

The man extended his hands and shrugged his 
shoulders. The old gesture. 




182 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ They will have it,” he said. " Shall we go to the 
hotel, Senor Trent, and rest ? ” 

Trent nodded, and the three men scrambled up 
the beach, across an open space, and gained the 
shelter of a broad balcony, shielded by a striped awn¬ 
ing which surrounded the plain white stone hotel. A 
Kru boy welcomed them with beaming face and 
fetched them drinks upon a Brummagem tray. Trent 
turned to the Englishman who had followed them up. 

“ To-morrow,” he said, “ I shall see you about the 
contracts. My first business is a private matter with 
these gentlemen. Will you come up here and break¬ 
fast with me?” 

The Englishman, a surveyor from a London office, 
assented with enthusiasm. 

“ I can’t offer to put you up,” he said gloomily. 
“ Living out here’s beastly. See you in the morning, 
then.” 

He strolled away, fanning himself. Trent lit a long 
cigar. 

“ I understand,” he said turning to Oom Sam, “ that 
old Monty is alive still. If so, it’s little short of a 
miracle, for I left him with scarcely a gasp in his body, 
and vas nearly done myself. 

“It was,” Oom Sam said, “veree wonderful. The 
natives who were chasing you, they found him and 
then the Englishman whom you met in Bekwando on 
his way inland, he rescued him. You see that little 
white house with a flagstaff yonder ? ” 

He pointed to a little one-storey building about a 
mile away along the coast. Trent nodded. 

“ That is,” Oom Sam said, “ a station of the Basle 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


183 


Mission and old Monty is there. You can go and see 
him any time you like, but he will not know you.” 

“ Is he as far gone as that ? ” Trent asked slowly. 

“ His mind,” Oom Sam said, “ is gone. One little 
flickering spark of life goes on. A day ! a week ! who 
can tell how long ? ” 

“ Has he a doctor?” Trent asked. 

“ The missionary, he is a medical man,” Oom Sam 
explained. “ Yet he is long past the art of medicine.” 

It seemed to Trent, turning at that moment to re¬ 
light his cigar, that a look of subtle intelligence was 
flashed from one to the other of the brothers. He 
paused with the match in his fingers, puzzled, sus¬ 
picious, anxious. So there was some scheme hatched 
already between these precious pair ! It was time 
indeed that he had come. 

“ There was something else I wanted to ask,” he 
said a moment or two later. “ What about the man 
Francis. Has he been heard of lately ? ” 

Oom Sam shook his head. 

“ Ten months ago,” he answered, “ a trader from 
Lulabulu reported having passed him on his way to 
! the interior. He spoke of visiting Sugbaroo, another 
country beyond. If he ventured there, he will 5 'rely 
; never return.” 

Trent set down his glass without a word, and called 
to some Kru boys in the square who carried litters. 

4 ‘ I am going,” he said, “ to find Monty.” 







CHAPTER XXIV 



N old man, with his face turned to the sea, was 


making a weary attempt at digging upon a small 
potato patch. The blaze of the tropical sun had 
become lost an hour or so before in a strange, grey 
mist, rising not from the sea, but from the swamps 
which lay here and there—brilliant, verdant patches 
of poison and pestilence. With the mist came a 
moist, sticky heat, the air was fetid. Trent wiped the 
perspiration from his forehead and breathed hard. 
This was an evil moment for him. 

Monty turned round at the sound of his approaching 
footsteps. The two men stood face to face. Trent 
looked eagerly for some sign of recognition—none 
came. 

“ Don’t you know me ? ” Trent said huskily. “ I’m 
Scarlett Trent—we went up to Bekwando together, 
you know. I thought you were dead, Monty, or I 
wouldn’t have left you.” 

“Eh! What!” 

Monty mumbled for a moment or two and was 
silent. A look of dull disappointment struggled with 
the vacuity of his face. Trent noticed that his hands 
were shaking pitifully and his eyes were bloodshot. 


184 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


185 


“ Try and think, Monty,” he went on, drawing a 
step nearer to him. “ Don’t you remember what a 
beastly time we had up in the bush—how thqy kept 
us day after day in that villainous hut because it was 
a fetish week, and how after we had got the con¬ 
cessions those confounded niggers followed us ! They 
meant our lives, Monty, and I don’t know how you 
escaped! Come! make an effort and pull yourself 
together. We’re rich men now, both of us. You 
must come back to England and help me spend a bit.” 

Monty had recovered a little his power of speech. 
He leaned over his spade and smiled benignly at his 
visitor. 

“ There was a Trentham in the Guards,” he said 
slowly, “ the Honourable George Trentham, you know, 
one of poor Abercrombie’s sons, but I thought he was 
dead. You must dine with me one night at the 
Travellers’ ! I’ve given up eating myself, but I’m 
always thirsty.” 

He looked anxiously away towards the town and 
began to mumble. Trent was in despair. Presently 
he began again. 

“I used to belong to the Guards,—always dined 
there till Jacques left. Afterwards the cooking was 
beastly, and—I can’t quite remember where I went 
then. You see—I think I must be getting old. I 
don’t remember things. Between you and me,” he 
sidled a little closer to Trent, “ I think I must have 
got into a bit of a scrape of some sort—I feel as 
though there was a blank somewhere. . . .” 

Again he became unintelligible. Trent was silent 
for several minutes. He could not understand that 


186 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


strained, anxious look which crept into Monty’s face 
every time he faced the town. Then he made his last 
effort. 

“ Monty, do you remember this ? ” 

Zealously guarded, yet a little worn at the edges 
and faded, he drew the picture from its case and held 
it before the old man’s blinking eyes. There was a 
moment of suspense, then a sharp, breathless cry 
which ended in a wail. 

“ Take it away,” Monty moaned. “ I lost it long 
ago. I don’t want to see it! I don’t want to think.” 

“ I have come,” Trent said, with an unaccustomed 
gentleness in his tone, “ to make you think. I want 
you to remember that that is a picture of your 
daughter. You are rich now and there is no reason 
why you should not come back to her. Don’t you 
understand, Monty?” 

It was a grey, white face, shrivelled and pinched, 
weak eyes without depth, a vapid smile in which 
there was no meaning. Trent, carried away for a 
moment by an impulse of pity, felt only disappoint¬ 
ment at the hopelessness of his task. He would have 
been honestly glad to have taken the Monty whom he 
had known back to England, but not this man! Eor 
already that brief flash of awakened life seemed to 
have died away. Monty’s head was wagging feebly 
and he was casting continually little, furtive glances 
towards the town. 

“ Please go away,” he said. “ I don’t know you 
and you give me a pain in my head. Don’t you know 
what it is to feel a buzz, buzz, buzzing inside ? I 
can’t remember things. It’s no use trying.” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


187 


“Monty, why do you look so often that way?” 
Trent said quietly. “ Is some one coming out from 
the town to see you ? ” 

Monty threw a quick glance at him and Trent 
sighed. For the glance was full of cunning, the low 
cunning of the lunatic criminal. 

“ No one, no one,” he said hastily. “ Who should 
come to see me? I’m only poor Monty. Poor old 
Monty’s got no friends. Go away and let me dig.” 

Trent walked a few paces apart, and passed out of 
the garden to a low, shelving bank and looked down¬ 
ward where a sea of glass rippled on to the broad, 
firm sands. What a picture of desolation! The grey, 
hot mist, the whitewashed cabin, the long, ugly 
potato patch, the weird, pathetic figure of that old 
man from whose brain the light of life had surely 
passed for ever. And yet Trent was puzzled. Monty’s 
furtive glance inland, his half-frightened, half-cunning 
denial of any anticipated visit suggested that there 
was some one else who was interested in his existence, 
and some one too with whom he shared a secret. 
Trent lit a cigar and sat down upon the sandy turf. 
Monty resumed his digging. Trent watched him 
through the leaves of a stunted tree, underneath which 
he had thrown himself. 

For an hour or more nothing happened. Trent 
smoked, and Monty, who had apparently forgotten all 
about his visitor, plodded away amongst the potato 
furrows, with every now and then a long, searching 
look towards the town. Then there came a black 
speck stealing across the broad rice-field and up the 
steep hill, a speck which in time took to itself the 


188 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


semblance of a man, a Kru boy, naked as he was born 
save for a ragged loin-cloth, and clutching something 
in his hand. He was invisible to Trent until he was 
close at hand ; it was Monty whose changed attitude 
and deportment indicated the approach of something 
interesting. He had relinquished his digging and, 
after a long, stealthy glance towards the house, had 
advanced to the extreme boundary of the potato patch. 
His behaviour here for the first time seemed to denote 
the hopeless lunatic. He swung his long arms back¬ 
ward and forwards, cracking his fingers, and talked 
unintelligibly to himself, hoarse, guttural murmurings 
without sense or import. Trent changed his place 
and for the first time saw the Kru boy. His face 
darkened and an angry exclamation broke from his lips. 
It was something like this which he had been expecting. 

The Kru boy drew nearer and nearer. Finally he 
stood upright on the rank, coarse grass and grinned at 
Monty, whose lean hands were outstretched towards 
him. He fumbled for a moment in his loin-cloth. 
Then he drew out a long bottle and handed it up. 
Trent stepped out as Monty’s nervous fingers were 
fumbling with the cork. He made a grab at the boy 
who glided off like an eel. Instantly he whipped out 
a revolver and covered him. 

“ Come here,” he cried. 

The boy shook his head. “ No understand.” 

“Who sent you here with that filthy stuff?” he 
asked sternly. “You’d best answer me.” 

The Kru boy, shrinking away from the dark muzzle 
of that motionless revolver, was spellbound with fear. 
He shook his head. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


189 


“ No understand.” 

There was a flash of light, a puff of smoke, a loud 
report. The Kru boy fell forward upon his face 
howling with fear. Monty ran off towards the house 
mumbling to himself. 

“ The next time,” Trent said coolly, “I shall fire at 
you instead of at the tree. Remember I have lived 
out here and I know all about you and your kind. 
You can understand me very well if you choose, and 
you’ve just .got to. Who sends you here with that 
vile stuff?” 

“ Massa, I tell! Massa Oom Sam, he send me! ” 

“ And what is the stuff? ” 

“ Hamburgh gin, massa ! very good liquor! Please, 
massa, point him pistol the other way.” 

Trent took up the flask, smelt its contents and threw 
it away with a little exclamation of disgust. 

“ How often have you been coming here on this 
errand ? ” he asked sternly. 

“ Most every day, massa—when him Mr. Price 
away.” 

Trent nodded. 

“ Very good,” he said. “ Now listen to me. If 
ever I catch you round here again or anywhere else 
on such an errand, I’ll shoot you like a dog. Now be 
off.” 

The boy bounded away with a broad grin of relief. 
Trent walked up to the house and asked for the 
missionary’s wife. She came to him soon, in what 
was called the parlour. A frail, anaemic-looking 
woman with tired eyes and weary expression. 

“I’m sorry to trouble you, Mrs. Price,” Trent said, 


190 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


plunging at once into his subject, “ but I want to 
speak to you about this old man, Monty. You’ve had 
him some time now, haven’t you ? ” 

“ About four years,” she answered. “ Captain 
Francis left him with my husband; I believe he found 
him in one of the villages inland, a prisoner.” 

Trent nodded. 

“ He left you a little money with him, I believe. 0 

The woman smiled faintly. 

“ It was very little,” she said, “ but such as it is, we 
have never touched it. He eats scarcely anything and 
we consider that the little work he has done has about 
paid us for keeping him.” 

“ Did you know,” Trent asked bluntly, " that he 
had been a drunkard ? ” 

“ Captain Francis hinted as much,” the woman 
answered. “ That was one reason why he wanted to 
leave him with us. He knew that we did not allow 
anything in the house.” 

“It was a pity,” Trent said, “that you could not 
have watched him a little more out of it. Why, his 
brain is sodden with drink now ! ” 

The woman was obviously honest in her amazement. 

“ How can that be ? ” she exclaimed. “ He has 
absolutely no money and he never goes off our land.” 

“ He has no need,” Trent answered bitterly. 
“ There are men in Attra who want him dead, and 
they have been doing their best to hurry him off. I 
caught a Kru boy bringing him gin this afternoon. 
Evidently it has been a regular thing.” 

“ I am very sorry indeed to hear this,” the woman 
said, “ and I am sure my husband will be too. He 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


191 


will feel that, in a certain measure, he has betrayed 
Captain Francis’s trust. At the same time we neither 
of us had any idea that anything of this sort was to be 
feared, or we would have kept watch.” 

“ You cannot be blamed,” Trent said. “ I am 
satisfied that you knew nothing about it. Now I am 
going to let you into a secret. Monty is a rich man if 
he had his rights, and I want to help him to them. I 
shall take him back to England with me, but I can’t 
leave for a week or so. If you can keep him till 
then and have some one to watch him day and night, 
I’ll give your husband a hundred pounds for your work 
here, and build you a church. It’s all right! Don’t 
look as though I were mad. I’m a very rich man, 
that’s all, and I shan’t miss the money, but I want to 
feel that Monty is safe till I can start back to England. 
Will you undertake this? ” 

“Yes,” the woman answered promptly, “we will. 
We’ll do our honest best.” 

Trent laid a bank-note upon the table. 

“Just to show I’m in earnest,” he remarked, rising. 
“I shall be up-country for about a month. Look after 
the old chap well and you’ll never regret it.” 

Trent went thoughtfully back to the town. He had 
committed himself now to a definite course of action. 
He had made up his mind to take Monty back with 
him to England and face the consequences. 


CHAPTER XXV 

O N the summit of a little knoll, with a pipe between 
his teeth and his back against a palm-tree, Trent 
was lounging away an hour of the breathless night. 
Usually a sound sleeper, the wakefulness, which had 
pursued him from the instant his head had touched 
his travelling pillow an hour or so back, was not only 
an uncommon occurrence, but one which seemed proof 
against any effort on his part to overcome it. So he 
had risen and stolen away from the little camp where 
his companions lay wrapped in heavy slumber. They 
had closed their eyes in a dense and tropical darkness— 
so thick indeed that they had lit afire, notwithstanding 
the stifling heat, to remove that vague feeling of 
oppression which chaos so complete seemed to bring 
with it. Its embers burnt now with a faint and sickly 
glare in the full flood of yellow moonlight which had 
fallen upon the country. From this point of vantage 
Trent could trace backwards their day’s march for 
many miles, the white posts left by the surveyor even 
were visible, and in the background rose the mountains 
of Bekwando. It had been a hard week’s work for 
Trent. He had found chaos, discontent, despair. The 

192 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


193 


English agent of the Bekwando Land Company was 
on the point of cancelling his contract, the surveyors 
i were spending valuable money without making any 
real attempt to start upon their undoubtedly difficult 
task. Everywhere the feeling seemed to be that the 
prosecution of his schemes was an impossibility. The 
road was altogether in the clouds. Trent was flatly 
told that the labour they required was absolutely 
unprocurable. Fortunately Trent knew the country, 
and he was a man of resource. From the moment 
when he had appeared upon the spot, things had 
I begun to right themselves. He had found Oom Sam 
established as a sort of task-master and contractor, 
and had promptly dismissed him, with the result that 
the supply of Kru boys was instantly doubled. He 
had found other sources of labour and started them 
at once on clearing work, scornfully indifferent to the 
often-expressed doubts of the English surveyor as to 
possibility of making the road at all. He had chosen 
overseers with that swift and intuitive insight into 
character which in his case amounted almost to genius. 
With a half-sheet of notepaper and a pencil, he had 
mapped out a road which had made one, at least, of the 
two surveyors thoughtful, and had largely increased 
his respect for the English capitalist. Now he was on 
his way back from a tour almost to Bekwando itself 
. by the route of the proposed road. Already the work 
of preparation had begun. Hundreds of natives left 
in their track were sawing down palm-trees, cutting 
away the bush, digging and making ready everywhere for 
that straight, wide thoroughfare which was to lead from 
Bekwando village to the sea-coast. Cables as to his 
13 







194 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


progress had already been sent back to London. Apart 
from any other result, Trent knew that he had saved 
the Syndicate a fortune by his journey here. 

The light of the moon grew stronger—the country 
lay stretched out before him like a map. With folded 
arms and a freshly-lit pipe Trent leaned with his back 
against the tree and fixed eyes. At first he saw 
nothing but that road, broad and white, stretching to 
the horizon and thronged with oxen-drawn waggons. 
Then the fancy suddenly left him and a girl’s face 
seemed to be laughing into his—a face which was ever 
changing, gay and brilliant one moment, calm and 
seductively beautiful the next. He smoked his pipe 
furiously, perplexed and uneasy. One moment the face 
was Ernestine’s, the next it was Monty’s little girl 
laughing up at him from the worn and yellow tin-type. 
The promise of the one—had it been fulfilled in the 
woman? At least he knew that here was the one 
great weakness of his life. The curious flood of senti¬ 
ment, which had led him to gamble for the child’s 
picture, had merged with equal suddenness into passion 
at the coming of her later presentment. High above 
all his plans for the accumulation of power and wealth, 
he set before him now a desire which had become the 
moving impulse of his life—a desire primitive but 
overmastering—the desire of a strong man for the 
woman he loves. In London he had scarcely dared 
admit so much even to himself. Here, in this vast 
solitude, he was more master of himself—dreams which 
seemed to him the most beautiful and the most daring 
which he had ever conceived, filled his brain and stirred 
his senses till the blood in his veins seemed flowing to 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


195 


a new and wonderful music. Those were wonderful 
moments for him. 

His pipe was nearly out, and a cooler breeze was 
stealing over the plain. After all, perhaps an hour or 
so’s sleep would be possible now. He stretched himself 
and yawned, cast one more glance across the moonlit 
plain, and then stood suddenly still, stiffened into an 
attitude of breathless interest. Yonder, between two 
lines of shrubs, were moving bodies—men, footsore 
and weary, crawling along with slow, painful move¬ 
ments; one at least of them was a European, and 
even at that distance Trent could tell that they were 
in grievous straits. He felt for his revolver, and, 
finding that it was in his belt, descended the hill 
quickly towards them. 

With every step which he took he could distinguish 
them more plainly. There were five Kru boys, a 
native of a tribe which he did not recognise, and a 
European who walked with reeling footsteps, and who, 
it was easy to see, was on the point of exhaustion. 
Soon they saw him, and a feeble shout greeted his 
approach. Trent was within hailing distance before 
he recognised the European. Then, with a little 
exclamation of surprise, he saw that it was Captain 
Francis. 

They met face to face in a moment, but Francis 
never recognised him. His eyes were bloodshot, a 
coarse beard disguised his face, and his clothes hung 
about him in rags. Evidently he was in a terrible 
plight. When he spoke his voice sounded shrill and 
cracked. 

“ We are starving men,” he said; “ can you help us ? ” 


196 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ Of course we can,” Trent answered quickly. “ This 
way. We’ve plenty of stores.” 

The little party stumbled eagerly after him. In 
a few moments they were at the camp. Trent roused 
his companions, packages were hastily undone and a 
meal prepared. Scarcely a word was said or a question 
asked. One or two of the Kru boys seemed on the 
verge of insanity—Francis himself was hysterical and 
faint. Trent boiled a kettle and made some beef-tea 
himself. The first mouthful Francis was unable to 
swallow. His throat had swollen and his eyes were 
hideously bloodshot. Trent, who had seen men before 
in dire straits, fed him from a spoon and forced brandy 
between his lips. Certainly, at the time, he never 
stopped to consider that he was helping back to life 
the man who in all the world was most likely to do 
him ill. 

“ Better ? ” he asked presently. 

“ Much. What luck to find you \ What are you 
after—gold ? ” 

Trent shook his head. 

“ Not at present. We’re planning out the new road 
from Attra to Bekwando.” 

Francis looked up with surprise. 

“Never heard of it,” he said; “but there’s trouble 
ahead for you. They are dancing the war-dance at 
Bekwando, and the King has been shut up for three 
days with the priest and never opened his mouth. We 
were on our way from the interior, and relied upon 
them for food and drink. They’ve always been friendly, 
hut this time we barely escaped with our lives.” 

Trent’s face grew serious. This was bad news for 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


197 


him, and he was thankful that they had not carried out 
their first plan and commenced their prospecting at 
Bekwando village. 

“We have a charter,” he said, “and, if necessary, 
we must fight. I’m glad to be prepared though.” 

“A charter ! ” Francis pulled himself together and 
looked curiously at the man who was still bending over 
him. 

“ Great Heavens ! ” he exclaimed, “ why, you are 
Scarlett Trent, the man whom I met with poor Yilliers 
in Bekwando years ago.” 

Trent nodded. 

“We waited for you,” he said, “to witness our 
concession. I thought that you would remember.” 

“I thought,” Francis said slowly, “that there was 
something familiar about you. ... I remember it all 
now. You were gambling with poor old Monty for his 
daughter’s picture against a bottle of brandy.” 

Trent winced a little. 

“ You have an excellent memory,” he said drily. 

Francis raised himself a little, and a fiercer note 
crept into his tone. 

“ It is coming back to me,” he said. “I remember 
more about you now, Scarlett Trent. You are the 
man who left his partner to die in a jungle, that you 
might rob him of his share in the concession. Oh 
yes, you see my memory is coming back! I have an 
account against you, my man.” 

“ It’s a lie! ” said Trent passionately. “ When I left 
him, I honestly believed him to be a dead man.” 

“ How many people will believe that ? ” Francis 
scoffed. “ I shall take Monty with me to England. I 


198 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


have finished with this country for awhile—and then— 
and then-” 

He was exhausted, and sank back speechless. Trent 
sat and watched him, smoking in thoughtful silence. 
They two were a little apart from the others, and 
Francis was fainting. A hand upon his throat—a drop 
from that phial in the medicine-chest—and his faint 
would carry him into eternity. And still Trent sat 
and smoked. 


CHAPTER XXVI 

TT was Trent himself who kept watch through that 
last long hour of moonlit darkness till the wan 
morning broke. With its faint, grey streaks came the 
savages of Bekwando, crawling up in a semicircle 
through the long, rough grass, then suddenly, at a 
signal, bounding upright with spears poised in their 
hands—an ugly sight in the dim dawn for men chilled 
with the moist, damp air and only half-awake. But 
Trent had not been caught napping. His stealthy call 
to arms had aroused them in time at least to crawl 
behind some shelter and grip their rifles. The war- 
cry of the savages was met with a death-like quiet— 
there were no signs of confusion nor terror. A Kru 
boy, who called out with fright, was felled to the 
ground by Trent with a blow which would have 
staggered an ox. With their rifles in hand, and every 
man stretched flat upon the ground, Trent’s little 
party lay waiting. Barely a hundred yards separated 
them, yet there was no sign of life from the camp. 
The long line of savages advanced a few steps more, 
their spears poised above their heads, their half-naked 
forms showing more distinctly as they peered forward 
through the grey gloom, savage and ferocious. The 

199 


200 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


white men were surely sleeping still. They were as 
near now as they could get. There was a signal and 
then a wild chorus of yells. They threw aside all 
disguise and darted forward, the still morning air 
hideous with their cry of battle. Then, with an 
awful suddenness, their cry became the cry of death, 
for out from the bushes belched a yellow line of fire 
as the rifles of Trent and his men rang out their 
welcome. A dozen at least of the men of Bekwando 
looked never again upon the faces of their wives, the 
rest hesitated. Trent, in whom was the love of 
fighting, made then his first mistake. He called for 
a sally, and rushed out, revolver in hand, upon the 
broken line. Half the blacks ran away like rabbits; 
the remainder, greatly outnumbering Trent and his 
party, stood firm. In a moment it was hand-to-hand 
fighting, and Trent was cursing already the bravado 
which had brought him out to the open. 

For a while it was a doubtful combat. Then, with 
a shout of triumph, the chief, a swarthy, thick-set man 
of herculean strength, recognised Francis and sprang 
upon him. The blow which he aimed would most 
surely have killed him, but that Trent, with the butt- 
end of a rifle, broke its force a little. Then, turning 
round, he blew out the man’s brains as Francis sank 
backwards. A dismal yell from his followers was the 
chief’s requiem; then they turned and fled, followed 
by a storm of bullets as Trent’s men found time to 
reload. More than one leaped into the air and fell 
forward upon their faces. The fight was over, and, 
when they came to look round, Francis was the only 
man who had suffered. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


201 


Morning had dawned even whilst they had been 
fighting. Little wreaths of mist were curling upwards, 
and the sun shone down with a cloudless, golden light, 
every moment more clear as the vapours melted away. 
Francis was lying upon his face groaning heavily; the 
Kru boys, to whom he was well known, were gathered 
in a little circle around him. Trent brushed them on 
one side and made a brief examination. Then he had 
him carried carefully into one of the tents while he 
went for his medicine-chest. 

Preparations for a start were made, but Trent was 
thoughtful. For the second time within a few hours 
this man, in whose power it was to ruin him, lay at his 
mercy. That he had saved his life went for nothing. 
In the heat of battle there had been no time for 
thought or calculation. Trent had simply obeyed the 
generous instinct of a brave man whose blood was 
warm with the joy of fighting. Now it was different. 
Trent was seldom sentimental, but from the first he 
had had an uneasy presentiment concerning this man 
who lay now within his power and so near to death. A 
mutual antipathy seemed to have been bom between 
them from the first moment when they had met in the 
village of Bekwando. As though it were yesterday, 
he remembered that leave-taking and Francis’s threaten¬ 
ing words. Trent had always felt that the man was 
his enemy—certainly the power to do him incalculable 
harm, if not to altogether ruin him, was his now. And 
he would not hesitate about it. v Trent knew that, 
although broadly speaking he was innocent of any 
desire to harm or desert Monty, no power on earth 
would ever convince Francis of that. Appearances 


202 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


were, and always must be, overwhelmingly against 
him. Without interference from any one he had 
already formulated plans for quietly putting Monty 
in his rightful position, and making over to him his 
share in the Bekwando Syndicate. But to arrange 
this without catastrophe would need skill and tact; 
interference from any outside source would be fatal, 
and Francis meant to interfere—nothing would stop 
him. Trent walked backwards and forwards with 
knitted brows, glancing every now and then at the 
unconscious man. Francis would certainly interfere 
if he were allowed to recover ! 


CHAPTER XXYII 


A FORTNIGHT afterwards Trent rode into Attra, 
pale, gaunt, and hollow-eyed. The whole history 
of those days w T ould never be known by another man ! 
Upon Trent they had left their mark for ever. Every 
hour of his time in this country he reckoned of great 
value—yet he had devoted fourteen days to saving the 
life of John Francis. Such days too—and such nights ! 
They had carried him sometimes in a dead stupor, 
sometimes a raving madman, along a wild bush-track 
across rivers and swamps into the town of Garba, where 
years ago a Congo trader, who had made a fortune, had 
built a little white-washed hospital ! He was safe now, 
but surely never a man before had walked so near the 
“ Valley of the Shadow of Death.” A single moment’s 
vigilance relaxed, a blanket displaced, a dose of brandy 
forgotten, and Trent might have walked this life a 
multi-millionaire, a peer, a little god amongst his 
fellows, freed for ever from all anxiety. But Francis 
was tended as never a man was tended before. Trent 
himself had done his share of the carrying, ever keep¬ 
ing his eyes fixed upon the death-lit face of their 
burden, every ready to fight off the progress of the 


204 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


fever and ague, as the twitching lips or shivering limhs 
gave warning of a change. For fourteen days he had 
not slept; until they had reached Garba his clothes 
had never been changed since they had started upon 
their perilous journey. As he rode into Attra he reeled 
a little in his saddle, and he walked into the office of 
the Agent more like a ghost than a man. 

Two men, Cathcart and his assistant, who was only 
a boy, were lounging in low chairs. As he entered 
they looked up, exchanging quick, startled glances. 
Then Cathcart gave vent to a little exclamation. 

“ Great Heavens, Trent, what have you been doing ?” 

Trent sank into a chair. “ Get me some wine,” he 
said. “ I am all right but over-tired.” 

Cathcart poured champagne into a tumbler. Trent 
emptied it at a gulp and asked for biscuits. The 
man’s recuperative powers were wonderful. Already 
the deathly whiteness was passing from his cheeks. 

“Where is Da Souza? ” he asked. 

“Gone back to England,” Cathcart answered, look¬ 
ing out of the open casement shaded from the sun by 
the sloping roof. “ His steamer started yesterday.” 

Trent was puzzled. He scarcely understood this 
move. 

“ Did he give any reason? ” 

Cathcart smoked for a moment in silence. After all 
though a disclosure would be unpleasant, it was in¬ 
evitable and as well now as any time. “ I think,” 
Cathcart said, “ that he has gone to try and sell his 
shares in the Bekwando concessions.” 

“Gone—to—sell—his—shares!” Trent repeated 
slowly. “ You mean to say that he has gone straight 





A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


205 


from here to put a hundred thousand Bekwando shares 
upon the market ? ” 

Cathcart nodded. 

“ He said so! ” 

“ And why ? Did he tell you that ? ” 

“ He has come to the conclusion,” Cathcart said, 
u that the scheme is impracticable altogether and the 
concessions worthless. He is going to get what he can 
for his shares while he has the chance.” 

Trent drained his tumbler and lit a cigar. 

“ So much for Da Souza,” he said. “ And now I 
should like to know, Mr. Stanley Cathcart, what the 
devil you and your assistant are doing shacking here in 
the cool of the day when you are the servants of the 
Bekwando Company and there’s work to be done of the 
utmost importance? The whole place seems to be 
asleep. Where’s your labour ? There’s not a soul at 
work. We planned exactly when to start the road. 
What the mischief do you mean by wasting a fort¬ 
night?” 

Cathcart coughed and was obviously ill-at-ease, but 
he answered with some show of dignity. 

“I have come to the conclusion, Mr. Trent, that the 
making of the road is impracticable and useless. There 
is insufficient labour and poor tools, no satisfactory 
method of draining the swampy country, and further, 
I don’t think any one would work with the constant 
fear of an attack from those savages.” 

“ So that’s your opinion, is it ? ” Trent said grimly. 

“ That is my opinion,” Cathcart answered. “ I have 
embodied it in a report which I despatched to the 
secretary of the Company by Mr. Da Souza.” 


206 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Trent rose and opened the door which swung into 
the little room. 

“ Out you go ! ” he said fiercely. 

Cathcart looked at him in blank astonishment. 

“ What do you mean? ” he exclaimed. “ These are 
my quarters ! ” 

“ They’re nothing of the sort,” Trent answered. 
“ They are the headquarters in this country of the 
Bekwando Company, with which you have nothing to 
do! Out you go! ” 

“ Don’t talk rubbish ! ” Cathcart said angrily. “ I’m 
the authorised and properly appointed surveyor here! ” 

“ You’re a liar! ” Trent answered, “ you’ve no con¬ 
nection at all with the Company! you’re dismissed, sir, 
for incompetence and cowardice, and if you’re not off 
the premises in three minutes it’ll be the worse for 
you ! ” 

“ You—you—haven’t the power to do this,” Cathcart 
stuttered. 

Trent laughed. 

“We’ll see about that,” he said. “I never had 
much faith in you, sir, and I guess you only got the job 
by a rig. But out you go now, sharp. If there’s any¬ 
thing owing you, you can claim it in London. 

“ There are all my clothes-” Cathcart began. 

Trent laid his hands upon his shoulders and threw 
him softly outside. 

“ I’ll send your clothes to the hotel,” he said. “ Take 
my advice, young man, and keep out of my sight till 
you can find a steamer to take you where they’ll pay 
you for doing nothing. You’re the sort of man who irri¬ 
tates me and it’s a nasty climate for getting angry in ! ” 



A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


207 


Cathcart picked himself up. “Well, I should like 
to know who’s going to make your road,” he said spite¬ 
fully. 

“I’ll make it myself,” Trent roared. “Don’t you 
think a little thing like some stupid laws of science will 
stand in my way, or the way of a man who knows his 
own mind. I tell you I’ll level that road from the tree 
there which we marked as the starting-point to the very 
centre of Bekwando.” 

He slammed the door and re-entered the room. The 
boy was there, sitting upon the office stool hard at work 
with a pair of compasses. 

“ What the devil are you doing there? ” Trent asked. 
“ Out you go with your master! ” 

The boy looked up. He had a fair, smooth face, but 
lips like Trent’s own. 

“ I’m just thinking about that first bend by Kurru 
corner, sir,” he said, “I’m not sure about the level.” 

Trent’s face relaxed. He held out his hand. 

“ My boy,” he said, “ I’ll make your fortune as sure 
as my name is Scarlett Trent! ” 

“We’ll make that road anyway,” the boy answered, 
with a smile. 

* * • * ♦ 

After a rest Trent climbed the hill to the Basle 
Mission House. There was no sign of Monty on the 
potato patch, and the woman who opened the door 
started when she saw him. 

“ How is he? ” Trent asked quickly. 

The woman looked at him in wonder. 


208 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ Why, he’s gone, sir—gone with the Jewish gentle¬ 
man who said that you had sent him.” 

“ Where to ? ” Trent asked quickly. 

“Why, to England in the Ophir!” the woman 
answered. 

Then Trent began to feel that, after all, the struggle 
of his life was only beginning. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


I T was then perhaps that Trent fought the hardest 
battle of his life. The start was made with only 
a dozen Kru boys, Trent himself, stripped to the shirt, 
labouring amongst them spade in hand. In a week 
the fishing boats were deserted, every one was working 
on the road. The labour was immense, but the wages 
were magnificent. Real progress was made and the 
boy’s calculations were faultless. Trent used the cable 
freely. 

“Have dismissed Cathcart for incompetence—road 
started—progress magnificent,’’ he wired one week, and 
shortly afterwards a message came back— 

“ Cathcart cables resigned—scheme impossible— 
shares dropping—wire reply.’’ 

Trent clenched his fist, and his language made the 
boy, who had never heard him violent, look up in sur¬ 
prise. Then he put on his coat and walked out to the 
cable station. 

“ Cathcart lies. I dismissed him for cowardice and 
incompetence. The road is being made and I pledge 
my word that it will be finished in six months. Let 
our friends sell no shares.’* 

14 


209 


210 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Then Trent went back and, hard as he had worked 
before, he surpassed it all now. Far and wide he sent 
ever with the same inquiry—for labour and stores. 
He spent money like water, but he spent from a 
bottomless purse. Day after day Kru boys, natives and 
Europeans down on their luck, came creeping in. Far 
away across the rolling plain the straight belt of flint- 
laid road-bed stretched to the horizon, one gang in 
advance cutting turf, another beating in the small 
stones. The boy grew thin and bronzed, Trent and he 
toiled as though their lives hung upon the work. So 
they went on till the foremost gang came close to the 
forests, beyond which lay the village of Bekwando. 

Then began the period of the greatest anxiety, for 
Trent and the boy and a handful of the others knew 
what would have sent half of the natives flying from 
their work if a whisper had got abroad. A few soldiers 
were drafted down from the Fort, arms were given out 
to all those who could be trusted to use them and by 
night men watched by the great red fires which flared 
along the path of their labours. Trent and the boy 
took it by turns to watch, their revolvers loaded by 
their side, and their eyes ever turned towards that dark 
line of forest whence came nothing but the singing of 
night birds and the calling of wild animals. Yet Trent 
would have no caution relaxed,' the more they pro¬ 
gressed the more vigilant the watch they kept. At 
last came signs of the men of Bekwando. In the small 
hours of the morning a burning spear came hurtling 
through the darkness and fell with a hiss and a quiver 
in the ground, only a few feet from where Trent and 
the boy lay. Trent stamped on it hastily and gave no 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


211 


alarm. But the boy stole round with a whisperd warn¬ 
ing to those who could be trusted to fight. 

Yet no attack came on that night or the next; on the 
third Trent and the boy sat talking and the latter 
frankly owned that he was nervous. 

“ It’s not that I’m afraid,” he said, smiling. “ You 
know it isn’t that! But all day long I’ve had the same 
feeling—we’re being watched! I’m perfectly certain 
that the beggars are skulking round the borders of the 
forest there. Before morning we shall hear from them.” 

“ If they mean to fight,” Trent said, “ the sooner 
they come out the better. I’d send a messenger to the 
King only I’m afraid they’d kill him. Oom Sam won’t 
come ! I’ve sent for him twice.” 

The boy was looking backwards and forwards along 
the long line of disembowelled earth. 

“ Trent,” he said suddenly, “ you’re a wonderful 
man. Honestly, this road is a marvellous feat for un¬ 
trained labour and with such rotten odds and ends of 
machinery. I don’t know what experience you’d had 
of road-making.” 

“ None,” Trent interjected. 

“ Then it’s wonderful! ” 

Trent smiled upon the boy with such a smile as few 
people had ever seen upon his lips. 

“ There’s a bit of credit to you, Davenant,” he said. 
“ I’d never have been able to figure out the levelling 
alone. Whether I go down or not, this shall be a good 
step up on the ladder for you.” 

The boy laughed. 

“ I’ve enjoyed it more than anything else in my life,” 
he said. “ Fancy the difference between this and life 


212 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


in a London office. It’s been magnificent! I never 
dreamed what life was like before.” 

Trent looked thoughtfully into the red embers. 

“ You had the mail to-day,” the boy continued. 
“How were things in London?” 

“Not so bad,” Trent answered. “Cathcart has been 
doing all the harm he can, but it hasn’t made a lot of 
difference. My cables have been published and our 
letters will be in print by now, and the photographs 
you took of the work. That was a splendid idea ! ” 

“ And the shares ? ” 

“ Down a bit—not much. Da Souza seems to be 
selling out carefully a few at a time, and my brokers 
are buying most of them. Pound shares are nineteen 
shillings to-day. They’ll be between three and four 
pounds, a week after I get back.” 

“ And when shall you go ? ” the boy asked. 

“ Directly I get a man out here I can trust and things 
are fixed with his Majesty the King of Bekwando! 
We’ll both go then, and you shall spend a week or two 
with me in London.” 

The boy laughed. 

“ What a time we’ll have ! ” 
know your way round ? ” 

Trent shook his head. 

“ I’m afraid not,” he said, 
guide.” 

“Right you are,” was the 
take you to Jimmy’s, and the 
river, and to a match at Lord’s, and to Henley if we’re 
in time, and I’ll take you to see my aunt! You’ll like 
her.” 


he cried. “ Say, do you 


“ You’ll have to be my 


cheerful 

Empire, 


answer. ‘ 
and down 


I’ll 

the 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


213 


Trent nodded. 

“ I’ll expect to,” he said. “ Is she anything like 
you?” 

“Much cleverer,” the boy said, “but we’ve been great 
chums all our life. She’s the cleverest woman I ever 
knew, earns lots of money writing for newspapers. 
Here, you’ve dropped your cigar, Trent.” 

Trent groped for it on the ground with shaking 
fingers. 

“ Writes for newspapers? ” he repeated slowly. “ I 
wonder—her name isn’t Davenant, is it ? ” 

The boy shook his head. 

“ No, she’s my mother’s cousin really—only I call 
her Aunty, we always got on so. She isn’t really 
much older than me, her name is Wendermott—Ernes¬ 
tine Wendermott. Ernestine’s a pretty name, don’t 
you think ? ” 

Trent rose to his feet, muttering something about a 
sound in the forest. He stood with his back to the 
boy looking steadily at the dark line of outlying scrub, 

I seeing in reality nothing, yet keenly anxious that 
the red light of the dancing flames should not fall 
upon his face. The boy leaned on his elbow and 
1 looked in the same direction. He was puzzled by 
a fugitive something which he had seen in Trent’s 
face. 

Afterwards Trent liked sometimes to think that it 
was the sound of her name which had saved them all. 
For, whereas his gaze had been idle at first, it became 
suddenly fixed and keen. He stooped down and 
whispered something to the boy. The word was 
passed along the line of sleeping men and one by one 



214 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


they dropped back into the deep-cut trench. The red 
fire danced and crackled—only a few yards outside the 
flame-lit space came the dark forms of men creeping 
through the rough grass like snakes. 




CHAPTEE XXIX 

HI HE attack was a fiasco, the fighting was all over 
in ten minutes. A hundred years ago the men of 
Bekwando, who went naked and knew no drink more 
subtle than palm wine had one virtue—bravery. But 
civilisation pressing upon their frontiers had brought 
Oom Sam greedy for ivory and gold, and Oom Sam 
had bought rum and strong waters. The nerve of the 
savage had gone, and his muscle had become a flaccid 
thing. When they had risen from the long grass with 
a horrid yell and had rushed in upon the hated in¬ 
truders with couched spears only to be met by a 
blinding fire of Lee-Metford and revolver bullets their 
bravery vanished like breath from the face of a 
looking-glass. They hesitated, and a rain of bullets 
wrought terrible havoc amongst their ranks. On ever}’ 
side the fighting-men of Bekwando went down like 
ninepins—about half a dozen only sprang forward for 
a hand-to-hand fight, the remainder, with shrieks of 
despair, fled back to the shelter of the forest, and not one 
of them again ever showed a bold front to the white 
man. Trent, for a moment or two, was busy, for a 

215 


216 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


burly savage, who had marked him out by the light of 
the gleaming flames, had sprung upon him spear in hand, 
and behind him came others. The first one dodged 
Trent’s bullet and was upon him, when the boy shot 
him through the cheek and he went rolling over into 
the fire, with a death-cry which rang through the 
camp high above the din of fighting, another behind 
him Trent shot himself, but the third was upon him 
before he could draw his revolver and the two rolled 
over struggling fiercely, at too close quarters for 
weapons, yet with the thirst for blood fiercely kindled 
in both of them. For a moment Trent had the worst 
of it—a blow fell upon his forehead (the scar of which 
he never lost) and the wooden club was brandished in 
the air for a second and more deadly stroke. But at 
that moment Trent leaped up, dashed his unloaded 
revolver full in the man’s face and, while he staggered 
with the shock, a soldier from behind shot him 
through the heart. Trent saw him go staggering 
backwards and then himself sank down, giddy with 
the blow he had received. Afterwards he knew that 
he must have fainted, for when he opened his eyes the 
sun was up and the men were strolling about looking 
at the dead savages who lay thick in the grass. Trent 
sat up and called for water. 

“Any one hurt?” he asked the boy who brought 
him some. 

The boy grinned, but shook his head. 

“ Plenty savages killed,” he said, “ no white man or 
Kru boy.” 

“ Where’s Mr. Davenant,” Trent asked suddenly. 

The boy looked round and shook his head. 




A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


217 


“No seen Mr. Dav’nant,” he said. “Him fight 
well though ! Him not hurt! ” 

Trent stood up with a sickening fear at his heart. 
He knew very well that if the boy was about and un¬ 
hurt he would have been at his side. Up and down 
the camp he strode in vain. At last one of the Kru 
boys thought he remembered seeing a great savage 
bounding away with some one on his back. He had 
thought that it was one of their wounded—it might 
have been the boy. Trent, with a sickening sense of 
horror, realised the truth. The boy had been taken 
prisoner. 

Even then he preserved his self-control to a mar¬ 
vellous degree. First of all he gave directions for the 
day’s work—then he called for volunteers to accom¬ 
pany him to the village. There was no great enthu¬ 
siasm. To fight in trenches against a foe who had no 
cover nor any firearms was rather a different thing 
from bearding them in their own lair. Nevertheless, 
about twenty men came forward, including a guide, 
and Trent was satisfied. 

They started directly after breakfast and for five 
hours fought their way through dense undergrowth 
and shrubs with never a sign of a path, though here 
and there were footsteps and broken boughs. By 
noon some of the party were exhausted and lagged 
behind, an hour later a long line of exhausted strag¬ 
glers were following Trent and the native guide. Yet 
to all their petitions for a rest Trent was adamant. 
Every minute’s delay might lessen the chance of 
saving the boy, even now they might have begun their 
horrible tortures. The thought inspired him with 


218 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


fresh vigour. He plunged on with long, reckless 
strides which soon placed a widening gap between 
him and the rest of the party. 

By degrees he began to recollect his whereabouts. 
The way grew less difficult—occasionally there were 
signs of a path. Every moment the soft, damp heat 
grew more intense and clammy. Every time he 
touched his forehead he found it dripping. But of 
these things he recked very little, for every step now 
brought him nearer to the end of his journey. Faintly, 
through the midday silence he could hear the clanging 
of copper instruments and the weird mourning cry of 
the defeated natives. A few more steps and he was 
almost within sight of them. He slackened his pace 
and approached more stealthily until only a little 
screen of bushes separated him from the village and, 
peering through them, he saw a sight which made his 
blood run cold within him. 

They had the boy ! He was there, in that fantastic 
circle bound hand and foot, but so far as he could see, 
at present unhurt. His face was turned to Trent, 
white and a little scared, but his lips were close-set 
and he uttered no sound. By his side stood a man 
with a native knife dancing around and singing—all 
through the place were sounds of wailing and lamen¬ 
tation, and in front of his hut the King was lying, with 
an empty bottle by his side, drunk and motionless. 
Trent’s anger grew fiercer as he watched. Was this a 
people to stand in his way, to claim the protection and 
sympathy of foreign governments against their own 
bond, that they might keep their land for misuse and 
their bodies for debauchery ? He looked backwards and 





A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


219 


listened. As yet there was no sign of any of his 
followers and there was no telling how long these 
antics were to continue. Trent looked to his revolver 
and set his teeth. There must be. no risk of evil 
happening to the boy. He walked boldly out into the 
little space and called to them in a loud voice. 

There was a wild chorus of fear. The women fled 
to the huts—the men ran like rats to shelter. But the 
executioner of Bekwando, who was a fetish man and 
holy, stood his ground and pointed his knife at Trent. 
Two others, seeing him firm, also remained. The 
moment was critical. 

“ Cut those bonds ! ” Trent ordered, pointing to the 
boy. 

The fetish man waved his hands and drew a step 
nearer to Trent, his knife outstretched. The other 
two backed him up. Already a spear was couched. 
Trent’s revolver flashed out in the sunlight. 

“ Cut that cord ! ” he ordered again. 

The fetish man poised his knife. Trent hesitated 
no longer, but shot him deliberately through the heart. 
He jumped into the air and fell forward upon his face 
with a death-cry which seemed to find an echo from 
every hut and from behind every tree of Bekwando. 
It was like the knell of their last hope, for had he 
not told them that he was fetish, that his body was 
proof against those wicked fires and that if the white 
men came, he himself would slay them ! And now he 
was dead ! The last barrier of their superstitious hope 
was broken down. Even the drunken King sat up and 
made strange noises. 

Trent stooped down and, picking up the knife, cut 



220 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YE STEEDAI 


the bonds which had bound the boy. He staggered up 
to his feet with a weak, little laugh. 

“ I knew you’d find me,” he said. “ Did I look 
awfully frightened ? ” 

Trent patted him on the shoulder. “ If I hadn’t 
been in time,” he said, “ I’d have shot every man here 
and burned their huts over their heads. Pick up the 
knife, old chap, quick. I think those fellows mean 
mischief.” 

The two warriors who had stood by the priest were 
approaching, but when they came within a few yards 
of Trent’s revolver they dropped on their knees. It 
was their token of submission. Trent nodded, and a 
moment afterwards the reason for their non-resistance 
was made evident. The remainder of the expedition 
came filing into the little enclosure. 

Trent lit a cigar and sat down on a block of wood to 
consider what further was best to be done. In the 
meantime the natives were bringing yams to the white 
men with timid gestures. After a brief rest Trent 
called them to follow him. He walked across to the 
dwelling of the fetish man and tore down the curtain 
of dried grass which hung before the opening. Even 
then it was so dark inside that they had to light a 
torch before they could see the walls, and the stench 
was horrible. 

A little chorus of murmurs escaped the lips of the 
Europeans as the interior became revealed to them. 
Opposite the door was a life-size and hideous effigy of 
a grinning god, made of wood and painted in many 
colours. By its side were other more horrible images 
and a row of human skulls hung from the roof. The 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


221 


hand of a white man, blackened with age, was stuck 
to the wall by a spear-head, the stench and filth of the 
whole place were pestilential. Yet outside a number 
of women and several of the men were on their knees 
hoping still against hope for aid from their ancient 
gods. There was a cry of horror when Trent uncere¬ 
moniously kicked over the nearest idol—a yell of panic 
when the boy, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes, 
threw out amongst them a worm-eaten, hideous effigy 
and with a hearty kick stove in its hollow side. It lay 
there bald and ugly in the streaming sunshine, a block 
of misshapen wood ill-painted in flaring daubs, the 
thing which they had worshipped in gloom and secret, 
they and a generation before them—all the mystery of 
its shrouded existence, the terrible fetish words of the 
dead priest, the reverence which an all-powerful and 
inherited superstition had kept alive within them, 
came into their minds as they stood there trembling, 
and then fled away to be out of the reach of the empty, 
staring eyes — out of reach of the vengeance which 
must surely fall from the skies upon these white 
savages. So they watched, the women beating their 
bosoms and uttering strange cries, the men stolid but 
scared. Trent and the boy came out coughing, and 
half-stupefied with the rank odour, and a little murmur 
went up from them. It was a device of the gods— 
a sort of madness with which they were afflicted. 
But soon their murmurs turned again into lamentation 
when they saw what was to come. Men were running 
backwards and forwards, piling up dried wood and 
branches against the idol-house, a single spark and the 
thing was done. A tongue of flame leaped up, a thick 


222 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


column of smoke stole straight up in the breathless air. 
Amazed, the people stood and saw the home of dread¬ 
ful mystery, whence came the sentence of life and 
death, the voice of the King-maker, the omens of war 
and fortune, enveloped in flames, already a ruined and 
shapeless mass. Trent stood and watched it, smoking 
fiercely and felt himself a civiliser. But the boy 
seemed to feel some of the pathos of the moment and 
he looked curiously at the little crowd of wailing 
natives. 

“ And the people ? ” he asked. 

“ They are going to help me make my road,” Trent 
said firmly. “ I am going to teach them to work ! ” 


CHAPTER XXX 


“TVTY dear Aunt Ernie, — At last I have a 
chance of sending you a letter—and, this 
time at any rate, you won’t have to complain about 
my sending you no news. I’ll promise you that, 
before I begin, and you needn’t get scared either, 
because it’s all good. I’ve been awfully lucky, and all 
because that fellow Cathcart turned out such a funk 
and a bounder. It’s the oddest thing in the world too, 
that old Cis should have written me to pick up all the 
news I could about Scarlett Trent and send it to you. 
Why, he’s within a few feet of me at this moment, and 
I’ve been seeing him continually ever since I came 
here. But there, I’ll try and begin at the beginning. 

“ You know Cathcart got the post of Consulting 
Surveyor and Engineer to the Bekwando Syndicate, 
and he was head man at our London place. Well, 
they sent me from Capetown to be junior to him, and 
a jolly good move forme too. I never did see anything 
in Cathcart! He’s a lazy sort of chap, hates work, and 
I guess he only got the job because his uncle had got a 
lot of shares in the business. It seems he never wanted 
to come, hates any place except London, which 
accounts for a good deal. 


224 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ All the time when we were waiting, he wasn’t a 
bit keen and kept on rotting about the good times he 
might have been having in London, and what a fearful 
country we were stranded in, till he almost gave me 
the blues, and if there hadn’t been some jolly good 
shooting and a few nice chaps up at the Fort, I should 
have been miserable. As it was, I left him to himself 
a good deal, and he didn’t like that either. I think 
Attra was a jolly place, and the landing in surf boats 
was no end of fun. Cathcart got beastly wet, and you 
should have seen what a stew he was in because he’d 
put on a beautiful white suit and it got spoilt. Well, 
things weren’t very lively at Attra at first, I’m bound to 
admit. No one seemed to know much about the 
Bekwando Land Company, and the country that way 
was very rough. However, we got sent out at last, and 
Cathcart, he simply scoffed at the whole thing from the 
first. There was no proper labour, not half enough 
machinery, and none of the right sort—and the 
gradients and country between Bekwando and the 
sea were awful. Cathcart made a few reports and 
we did nothing but kick our heels about until He came. 
You’ll see I’ve written that in big letters, and I tell 
you if ever a man deserved to have his name written 
in capitals Scarlett Trent does, and the oddest part of 
it is he knows you, and he was awfully decent to me 
all the time. 

“ Well, out he went prospecting, before he’d been in 
the country twenty-four hours, and he came back quite 
cheerful. Then he spoke to Cathcart about starting 
work, and Cathcart was a perfect beast. He as good 
as told him that he’d come out under false pretences, 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


225 


that the whole affair was a swindle and that the road 
could not be made. Trent didn’t hesitate, I can tell 
you. There were no arguments or promises with him. 
He chucked Cathcart on the spot, turned him out of 
the place, and swore he’d make the road himself. I 
asked if I might stop, and I think he was glad, anyhow 
we’ve been ever such pals ever since, and I never 
expect to have such a time again as long as I live! 
But do you know, Auntie, we’ve about made that road. 
When I see what we’ve done, sometimes I can’t believe 
it. I only wish some of the bigwigs who’ve never 
been out of an office could see it. I know I’ll hate to 
come away. 

“ You’d never believe the time we had—leaving out 
the fighting, which I am coming to by and by. We 
were beastly short of all sorts of machinery and our 
labour was awful. We had scarcely any at first, but 
Trent found ’em somehow, Kru boys and native Zulus 
and broken-down Europeans—any one who could hold 
a pick. More came every day, and we simply cut our 
way through the country. I think I was pretty useful, 
for you see I was the only chap there who knew even a 
bit about engineering or practical surveying, and I’d sit 
up all night lots of times working the thing out. We 
had a missionary came over the first Sunday, and 
wanted to preach, but Trent stopped him. ‘ We’ve 
got to work here,’ he said, ‘ and Sunday or no Sunday 
I can’t let my men stop to listen to you in the cool of 
the day. If you want to preach, come and take a pick 
now, and preach when they’re resting,’ and he did and 
worked well too, and afterwards when we had to knock 
off, he preached, and Trent took the chair and made 


226 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


’em all listen. Well, when we got a bit inland we had 
the natives to deal with, and if you ask me I believe 
that’s one reason Cathcart hated the whole thing so. 
He’s a beastly coward I think, and he told me once 
he’d never let off a revolver in his life. Well, they 
tried to surprise us one night, but Trent was up himself 
watching, and I tell you we did give ’em beans. Great, 
ugly-looking, black chaps they were. Aunt Ernie, I 
shall never forget how I felt when I saw them come 
creeping through the long, rough grass with their beastly 
spears all poised ready to throw. And now for my own 
special adventure. Won’t you shiver when you read 
this! I was taken prisoner by one of those chaps, 
carried off to their beastly village and very nearly 
murdered by a chap who seemed to be a cross between 
an executioner and a high-priest, and who kept dancing 
round me, singing a lot of rot and pointing a knife at 
me. You see, I was right on the outside of the fighting 
and I got a knock on the head with the butt-end of a 
spear, and was a bit silly for a moment, and a great 
chap, who’d seen me near Trent and guessed I was 
somebody, picked me up as though I’d been a baby 
and carried me off. Of course I kicked up no end of a 
row as soon as I came to, but what with the firing and 
the screeching no one heard me, and Trent said it was 
half an hour before he missed me and an hour before 
they started in pursuit. Anyhow, there I was, about 
morning-time when you were thinking of having your 
cup of tea, trussed up like a fowl in the middle of the 
village, and all the natives, beastly creatures, pro¬ 
menading round me and making faces and bawling 
out things—oh, it was beastly 1 can tell you 1 Then 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


227 


just as they seemed to have made up their mind to 
kill me, up strode Scarlett Trent alone, if you please, 
and he walked up to the whole lot of ’em as bold as 
brass. He’d got a long way ahead of the rest and 
thought they meant mischief, so he wouldn’t wait for 
the others but faced a hundred of them with a revolver 
in his hand, and I can tell you things were lively then. 
I’d never be able to describe the next few minutes—one 
man Trent knocked down with his fist, and you could 
hear his skull crack, then he shot the chap who had 
been threatening me, and cut my bonds, and then they 
tried to resist us, and I thought it was all over. They 
were horribly afraid of Trent though, and while they 
were closing round us the others came up and the 
natives chucked it at once. They used to be a very 
brave race, but since they were able to get rum for 
their timber and ivory, they’re a lazy and drunken lot. 
Well, I must tell you what Trent did then. He went 
to the priest’s house where the gods were kept—such a 
beastly hole—and he burned the place before the eyes of 
all the natives. I believe they thought every moment 
that we should be struck dead, and they stood round in 
a ring, making an awful row, but they never dared 
interfere. He burnt the place to the ground, and then 
what do you think he did ? From the King downward 
he made every Jack one of them come and work on his 
road. You’ll never believe it, but it’s perfectly true. 
They looked upon him as their conqueror, and they 
came like lambs when he ordered it. They think 
they’re slaves you know, and don’t understand their 
pay, but they get it every week and same as all the 
other labourers—and oh, Aunt Ernie, you should see the 


228 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


King work with a pickaxe! He is fat and so clumsy 
and so furiously angry, but he’s too scared of Trent to 
do anything but obey orders, and there he works hour 
after hour, groaning, and the perspiration rolls off him 
as though he were in a Turkish bath. I could go on 
telling you odd things that happen here for hours, but 
I must finish soon as the chap is starting with the 
mail. I am enjoying it. It is something like life I can 
tell you, and aren’t I lucky? Trent made me take 
Cathcart’s place. I am getting ^6800 a year, and only 
fancy it, he says he’ll see that the directors make me a 
special grant. Everything looks very different here 
now, and I do hope the Company will be a success. 
There’s whole heaps of mining machinery landed and 
waiting for the road to be finished to go up, and people 
seem to be streaming into the place. I wonder what 
Cathcart will say when he knows that the road is as 
good as done, and that I’ve got his job 1 . t . 

“ Chap called for mail. Goodbye. 

“Ever your affectionate 

“ Fred. 

“ Trent is a brick.” 

Ernestine read the letter slowly, line by line, word by 
word. To tell the truth it was absorbingly interesting 
to her. Already there had come rumours of the daring 
and blunt, resistless force with which this new-made 
millionaire had confronted a gigantic task. His terse 
communications had found their way into the Press, and 
in them and in the boy’s letter she seemed to discover 
something Caesaric. That night it was more than 
usually difficult for her to settle down to her own work. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


229 


She read her nephew’s letter more than once and con¬ 
tinually she found her thoughts slipping away—travel¬ 
ling across the ocean to a tropical strip of country, 
where a heterogeneous crowd of men were toiling and 
digging under a blazing sun. And, continually too, she 
seemed to see a man’s face looking steadily over the sea 
to her, as he stood upright for a moment and rested 
from his toil. She was very fond of the boy—but the 
face was not his ! 


CHAPTER XXXI 


SPECIAL train from Southampton had just 



steamed into Waterloo with the passengers 
from the Royal Mail steamer Ophir. Little groups of 
sunburnt men were greeting old friends upon the plat¬ 
form, surrounded by piles of luggage, canvas trunks 
and steamer chairs. The demand for hansoms was 
brisk, cab after cab heavily loaded was rolling out of 
the yard. There were grizzled men and men of fair 
complexion, men in white helmets and puggarees, and 
men in silk hats. All sorts were represented there, 
from the successful diamond digger who was spasmodi¬ 
cally embracing a lady in black jet of distinctly Jewish 
proclivities, to a sporting lord who had been killing 
lions. For a few minutes the platforms were given 
over altogether to a sort of pleasurable confusion, a 
vivid scene, full of colour and human interest. Then 
the people thinned away, and, very nearly last of all, a 
wizened-looking, grey-headed man, carrying a black bag 
and a parcel, left the platform with hesitating footsteps 
and turned towards the bridge. He was followed 
almost immediately by Hiram Da Souza, who, curiously 
enough, seemed to have been on the platform when the 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTEBDAY 


231 


train came in and to have been much interested in this 
shabby, lonely old man, who carried himself like a waif 
stranded in an unknown land. Da Souza was gorgeous 
in frock coat and silk hat, a carnation in his buttonhole, 
a diamond in his black satin tie, yet he was not 
altogether happy. This little man hobbling along in 
front represented fate to him. On the platform at 
Waterloo he had heard him timidly ask a bystander 
the way to the offices of the Bekwando Land and Gold 
Exploration Company, Limited. If ever he got there, 
what would be the price of Bekwando shares on the 
morrow ? . . . 

On the bridge Da Souza saw him accost a policeman, 
and, brushing close by, heard him ask the same 
question. The man shook his head, but pointed 
eastwards. 

“ I can’t say exactly, sir, but somewhere in the City, 
sir, for certain,” he answered. “ I should make for the 
Bank of England, a penny ’bus along that way will take 
you—and ask again there.” 

The old man nodded his thanks and stepped along 
Da Souza felt that his time had come. He accosted 
him with an urbane smile. 

“ Excuse me,” he said, “ but I think I heard you 
ask for the offices of the Bekwando Land Company.” 

The old man looked up eagerly. “ If you can direct 
me there, sir,” he said, “ I shall be greatly obliged.” 

“ I can do so,” Da Souza said, falling into step, “ and 
will with pleasure. I am going that way myself. I 
hope,” he continued in a tone of kindly concern, “ that 
you are not a shareholder in the Company.” 

The old man dropped his bag with a clatter upon the 


232 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


pavement, and his lips moved for a moment without 
any speech coming from them. Da Souza picked up 
the bag and devoutly hoped that none of his City friends 
were in the way. 

“ I don’t exactly know about being a shareholder,” 
the old man said nervously, “ but I’ve certainly some¬ 
thing to do with it. I am, or should have been, joint- 
vendor. The Company is wealthy, is it not ? ” 

Da Souza changed the bag into his other hand and 
thrust his arm through his companion’s. 

“You haven’t seen the papers lately, have you?” 

“ No ! I’ve just landed—to-day—from Africa ! ” 

“ Then I’m sorry to say there’s some bad news for 
you,” Da Souza said. “The Bekwando Land and 
Gold Company has gone into liquidation—smashed 
up altogether. They say that all the directors and the 
vendor will be arrested. It seems to have been a 
gigantic swindle.” 

Monty had become a dead weight upon his arm. 
They were in the Strand now, and he pushed open the 
swing-door of a public-house, and made his way into the 
private bar. When Monty opened his eyes he was on 
a cushioned seat, and before him was a tumbler of 
brandy half empty. He stared round him wildly. His 
lips were moist and the old craving was hot upon him. 
What did it mean ? After all he had broken his vow, 
then ! Had he not sworn to touch nothing until he 
had found his little girl and his fortune ? yet the fire of 
spirits was in his veins and the craving was tearing 
him to pieces. Then he remembered ! There was no 
fortune, no little girl! His dreams were all shattered, 
the last effort of his life had been in vain. He caught 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


233 


hold of the tumbler with fingers that shook as though 
an ague were upon him, lifted it to his lips and drank. 
Then there came the old blankness, and he saw nothing 
but what seemed to him the face of a satyr—dark 
and evil—mocking him through the shadows which 
had surely fallen now for ever. Da Souza lifted 
him up and conveyed him carefully to a four-wheel 
cab. 


♦ « * * * 

An hour afterwards Da Souza, with a grin of content 
upon his unshapely mouth, exchanged his frock coat 
for a gaudy smoking-jacket, and, with a freshly-lit 
cigar in his mouth, took up the letters which had 
arrived by the evening post. Seeing amongst them 
one with an African stamp he tore it open hastily, 
and read:— 

“ My dear Hiram, —You was in luck now or never, 
if you really want to stop that half-witted creature 
from doing mischief in London. I sometimes think, 
my brother, that you would do better to give me even 
more of your confidence. You are a very clever man, 
but you do keep yourself so secret. If I too were not 
clever, how would I know to send you this news, how 
would I know that it will make you glad ? But there, 
you will go your way. I know it! 

“ Now for the news ! Monty, as I cabled (I send the 
bill) has gone secretly to London. Sinc^ Scarlett 
Trent found our Hausa friend and the rum flask, 
there have been no means of getting liquor to him, so I 


234 A MILLIONAIBE OF YESTERDAY 


suppose he has very near regained his senses, anyhow 
he shipped off very cunning, not even Missionary 
Walsh knowing, but he made a very big mistake, the 
news of which I send to you knowing it will be good. 
Hiram, he stole the money to pay for his passage from 
the missionary’s cash-box ! All one day he stood under 
a tree looking out to sea, and a steamer from Capetown 
called, and when he heard the whistle and saw the 
surf boats he seemed to wake up. He walked up and 
down restlessly for a long time, muttering to himself. 
Mrs. Walsh came out to him and he was still staring 
at the steamer. She told him to come in out of the 
sun, which was very hot, but he shook his head. 
‘ She’s calling me,' he kept on saying, ‘ calling me! ’ 
She heard him in the room where the money was and 
then saw no more of him. But others saw him run¬ 
ning to the shore, and he paid to be taken out to the 
steamer. They wouldn’t take him on at first, because 
he hadn’t secured a passage, but he laid down and 
wouldn’t move. So, as he had the money, they took 
him, and when I heard I cabled to you. But what 
harm can he do, for you are his master ? He is a thief 
and you know it. Surely you can do with him what 
you will. 

“ Trent was here yesterday and heard for the first 
time of his flight. How he took it I cannot tell you, 
for I was not the one to tell him, but this I know for a 
fact. He cabled to Capetown offering £100 if the 
Star Line steamer leaving to-morrow would call for 
him here! Hiram, he is a great man, this Trent. I 
hate him, for he has spoilt much trade for me, and he 
treats me as though I were the dirt under his feet, but 




A MILLIONAIEE OF YE STEED AY 


235 


never a man before who has set foot upon the Coast 
could have done what he has done. Without soldiers 
he has beaten the Bekwando natives, and made them 
even work for him. He has stirred the whole place here 
into a state of fever ! A thousand men are working 
upon his road and sinking shafts upon the Bekwando 
hills. Gold is already coming down, nuggets of it, and 
he is opening a depot to buy all the mahogany and 
ivory in the country. He spends money like water, he 
never rests, what he says must be done is done ! The 
authorities are afraid of him, but day by day they 
become more civil ! The Agent here called him once 
an adventurer, and threatened him with arrest for his 
fighting with the Bekwandos. Now they go to him 
cap in hand, for they know that he will be a great 
power in this country. And Hiram, my brother, you 
have not given me your trust though I speak to you so 
openly, but here is the advice of a brother, for blood is 
blood, and I would have you make monies. Don’t you 
put yourself against Trent. Be on his side, for his is 
the winning side. I don’t know what you got in your 
head about that poor scarecrow Monty, but I tell you, 
Hiram, Trent is the man to back right through. He 
has the knack of success, and he is a genius. My ! 
he’s a great man, and he’s a king out here. You be on 
his side, Hiram, and you’re all right. 

“Now goodbye, but send me the money for the 
cable when you write, and remember—Monty is a 
thief and Trent is the man to back, which reminds me 
that Trent repaid to Missionary Walsh all the money 
w 7 hich Monty took, which it seems was left with 
Walsh by him for Monty’s keep. But Monty does 


236 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


not know that, so you have the string to make him 
dance. 

11 Which comes from your brother 

“ Samuel. 

“P.S.—Do not forget the small account for dis¬ 
bursements.” 

Da Souza folded up the letter, and a look of peace 
shone in his face. Presently he climbed the stairs to 
a little back-room and noiselessly unlocked the door. 
Monty, with pale face and bloodshot eyes, was walking 
up and down, mumbling to himself. He addressed Da 
Souza eagerly. 

“ I think I will go away now,” he said. “ I am very 
much obliged to you for looking after me.” 

Da Souza gazed at him with well-affected gravity. 

“ One moment first,” he said, “ didn’t I understand 
you that you had just come from Africa ? ” 

Monty nodded. 

“The Gold Coast?” 

Monty nodded again, but with less confidence. 

“ By any chance—were you called Monty there ? ” 

Monty turned ghastly pale. Surely his last sin had 
not found him out. He was silent, but there was no 
need for sp^sch. Da Souza motioned him to sit down. 

“I am very sorry,” he said, “of course it’s true. 
The police have been here.” 

“ The police 1 ” Monty moaned. 

Da Souza nodded. Benevolence was so rare a part 
for him to play, that he rather enjoyed it. 

“ Don’t be scared,” he said. “ Yes, your description 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


237 


is out, and you are wanted for stealing a few pounds 
from a man named Walsh. Never mind. I won’t 
give you up. You shall lie snug here for a few days ! ” 

Monty fell on his knees. “ You won’t let any one 
know that I am here ! ” he pleaded. 

“ Not I,” Da Souza answered fervently. 

Monty rose to his feet, his face full of dumb misery. 

“ Now,” he muttered, “ I shall never see her—never 
—never—never ! ” 

There was a bottle half full of spirits upon the table 
and a tumbler as yet unused. A gleam flashed in his 
eyes. He filled the tumbler and raised it to his lips. 
Da Souza watched him curiously with the benevolent 
smile still upon his face. 


CHAPTER XXXII 

“T^OU are very smart, Ernestine,” he said, looking 
J- at her admiringly. 

“ One must be smart at Ascot,” she answered, “or 
stay away.” 

“ I’ve just heard some news,” he continued. 

“Yes?” 

“ Who do you think is here ? ” 

She glanced at him sideways under her lace parasol. 
“ Every one I should think.” 

“ Including,” he said, “ Mr. Scarlett Trent! ” 

She grew a shade paler, and leaned for a moment 
against the rail of the paddock in which they were 
lounging. 

“ I thought,” she said, “ that the Mazetta Castle was 
not due till to-day.” 

“ She touched at Plymouth in the night, and he had 
a special train up. He has some horses running, you 
know.” 

“ I suppose,” she remarked, “ that he is^more of a 
celebrity than ever now ! ” 


238 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


239 


“ Much more,” he answered. “ If he chooses he will 
be the lion of the season! By the by, you had nothing 
of interest from Fred?” 

She shook her head impatiently. 

“Nothing but praises! According to Fred, he’s a 
hero ! ” 

“I hate him,” Davenant said sulkily. 

“ And so,” she answered softly, “do I! Do you see 
him coming, Cecil ? ” 

“In good company too,” the young man laughed 
bitterly. 

A little group of men, before whom every one fell 
back respectfully, were strolling through the paddock 
towards the horses. Amongst them was Royalty, and 
amongst them also was Scarlett Trent. But when he 
saw the girl in the white foulard smile at him from the 
paling he forgot etiquette and everything else. He 
walked straight across to her with that keen, bright 
light in his eyes which Fred had described so well in 
his letter. 

“I am very fortunate,” he said, taking the delicately 
gloved hand into his fingers, “ to find you so soon. I 
have only been in England a few hours.” 

She answered him slowly, subjecting him the while 
to a somewhat close examination. His face was more 
sunburnt than ever she had seen a man’s, but there 
was a wonderful force and strength in his features, 
which seemed to have become refined instead of 
coarsened by the privations through which he had 
passed. His hand, as she had felt, was as hard as 
iron, and it was not without reluctance that she felt 
compelled to take note of his correct attire and easy 


240 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


bearing. After all he must be possessed of a wonderful 
measure of adaptability. 

“ You have become famous,” she said. “ Do you 
know that you are going to be made a lion ? ” 

“ I suppose the papers have been talking a lot of 
rot,” he answered bluntly. “ I’ve had a fairly rough 
time, and I’m glad to tell you this, Miss Wender- 
mott—I don’t believe I’d ever have succeeded but for 
your nephew Fred. He’s the pluckiest boy I ever 
knew.” 

“ I am very pleased to hear it,” she answered. “ He’s 
a dear boy ! ” 

“ He’s a brick,” Trent answered. “ We’ve been in 
some queer scrapes together—I’ve lots of messages for 
you ! By the by, are you alone ? ” 

“For the moment,” she answered; “Mr. Davenant 
left me as you came up. I’m with my cousin, Lady 
Tresham. She’s on the lawn somewhere.” 

He looked down the paddock and back to her. 

“Walk with me a little way,” he said, “ and I will 
show you Iris before she starts.” 

“ You ! ” she exclaimed. 

He pointed to the card. It was surely an accident 
that she had not noticed it before. Mr. Trent’s Iris 
was amongst the entries for the Gold Cup. 

“ Why, Iris is the favourite ! ” 

He nodded. 

“ So they tell me ! I’ve been rather lucky haven’t I, 
for a beginner? I found a good trainer, and I had 
second call on Cannon, who’s riding him. If you care 
to back him for a trifle, I think you’ll be all right, 
although the odds are nothing to speak of.” 


A MILLIONAIEE OF YE STEED AY 


241 


She was walking by his side now towards the quieter 
end of the paddock. 

“ I hear you have been to Torquay,” he said, looking 
at her critically, “ it seems to have agreed with you. 
You are looking well! ” 

She returned his glance with slightly uplifted eye¬ 
brows, intending to convey by that and her silence a 
rebuke to his boldness. He was blandly unconscious, 
however, of her intent, being occupied just then in 
returning the greetings of passers-by. She bit her lip 
and looked straight a-head. 

“ After all,” he said, “ unless you are very keen on 
seeing Iris, I think we’d better give it up. There are 
too many people around her already.” 

“ Just as you like,” she answered, “ only it seems a 
shame that you shouldn’t look over your own horse 
before the race if you want to. Would you like to try 
alone?” 

“ Certainly not,” he answered. “ I shall see plenty 
of her later. Are you fond of horses ? '* 

“Very.” 

“ Go to many race-meetings? ” 

“ Whenever I get the chance !—I always come here.” 

“It is a great sight,” he said thoughtfully, looking 
around him. “Are you here just for the pleasure of it, 
or are you going to write about it ? ” 

She laughed. 

“ I’m going to write about some of the dresses,” 
she said. “I’m afraid no one would read my racing 
notes.” 

“ I hope you’ll mention your own,” he said coolly. 
“It’s quite the prettiest here.” 

16 




242 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


She scarcely knew whether to be amused or 
offended. 

“ You are a very downright person, Mr. Trent,” she 
said. 

“ You don’t expect me to have acquired manners 
yet, do you ? ” he answered drily. 

“ You have acquired a great many things,” she said, 

“ with surprising facility. Why not manners ? ” 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

“No doubt they will come, but I shall want a lot of 
polishing. I wonder-” 

“Well?” 

“ Whether any one will ever think it worth while to 
undertake the task.” 

She raised her eyes and looked him full in the face, j 
She had made up her mind exactly what to express j 
—and she failed altogether to do it. There was a 
fire and a strength in the clear, grey eyes fixed so : 
earnestly upon hers which disconcerted her altogether. I 
She was desperately angry with herself and desperately 
uneasy. 

“ You have the power,” she said with slight coldness, I 
“ to buy most things. By the by, I was thinking only 
just now, how sad it was that your partner did not live. 
He shared the work with you, didn’t he? It seems 
such hard lines that he could not have shared the 
reward ! ” 

He showed no sign of emotion such as she had 
expected, and for which she had been narrowly watch¬ 
ing him. Only he grew at once more serious, and he 
led her a little further still from the crush of people. 

It was the luncheon interval, and though the next race 





A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


243 


was the most important of the day, the stream of 
promenaders had thinned off a little. 

“ It is strange,” he said, “ that you should have 
spoken to me of my partner. I have been thinking 
about him a good deal lately.” 

“ In what way? ” 

“Well, first of all, I am not sure that our agreement 
was altogether a fair one,” he said. “He had a 
daughter and I am very anxious to find her ! I feel 
that she is entitled to a certain number of shares in 
the Company, and I want her to accept them.” 

“ Have you tried to find her ? ” she asked. 

He looked steadily at her for a moment, but her 
parasol had dropped a little upon his side and he could 
not see her face. 

“ Yes, I have tried,” he said slowly, “ and I have 
suffered a great disappointment. She knows quite 
well that I am searching for her, and she prefers to 
remain undiscovered.” 

“ That sounds strange,” she remarked, with her eyes 
fixed upon the distant Surrey hills. “ Do you know 
her reason?” 

“ I am afraid,” he said deliberately, “ that there can 
be only one. It’s a miserable thing to believe of any 
woman, and I’d be glad-” 

He hesitated. She kept her eyes turned away from 
him, but her manner denoted impatience. 

“Over on this side,” he continued, “it seems that 
Monty was a gentleman in his day, and his people 
were—well, of your order! There was an Earl I 
believe in the family, and no doubt they are highly 
respectable. He went wrong once, and of course they 


244 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


never gave him another chance. It isn’t their way— 
that sort of people ! I’ll admit he was pretty low 
down when I came across him, but I reckon that was 
the fault of those who sent him adrift—and after all 
there w T as good in him even then. I am going to tell 
you something now, Miss Wendermott, which I’ve 
often wanted to—that is, if you’re interested enough 
to care to hear it! ” 

All the time she was asking herself how much he 
knew. She motioned him to proceed. 

“ Monty had few things left in the world worth 
possessing, but there was one which he had never 
parted with, which he carried with him always. It 
was the picture of his little girl, as she had been when 
his trouble happened.” 

He stooped a little as though to see over the white 
rails, but she was too adroit. Her face remained 
hidden from him by that little cloud of white lace. 

“ It is an odd thing about that picture,” he went on 
slowly, “ but he showed it to me once or twice, and I 
too got very fond of it! It was just a little girl’s face, 
very bright and very winsome, and over there we were 
lonely, and it got to mean a good deal to both of us. 
And one night Monty would gamble—it was one of 
his faults, poor chap—and he had nothing left but his 
picture, and I played him for it—and won ! ” 

“ Brute ! ” she murmured in an odd, choked tone. 

“ Sounds so, doesn’t it ? But I wanted that picture. 
Afterwards came our terrible journey back to the Coast, 
when I carried the poor old chap on my back day by 
day, and stood over him at night potting those black 
beasts when they crept up too close—for they were on 


A MILLION A IRE OF YE STEED AY 


245 


our track all the time. I wouldn’t tell you the whole 
story of those days, Miss Wendermott, for it would 
keep you awake at night; but I’ve a fancy for telling 
you this. I’d like you to believe it, for it’s gospel 
truth. I didn’t leave him until I felt absolutely and 
actually certain that he couldn’t live an hour. He was 
passing into unconsciousness, and a crowd of those 
natives were close upon our heels. So I left him and 
took the picture with me—and I think since then that 
it has meant almost as much to me as ever it had been 
to him.” 

“That,” she remarked, “sounds a little far-fetched 
—not to say impossible.” 

“ Some day,” he answered boldly, “ I shall speak to 
you of this again, and I shall try to convince you that 
it is truth ! ” 

He could not see her face, but he knew very well in 
some occult manner that she had parted with some at 
least of her usual composure. As a matter of fact she 
was nervous and ill-at-ease. 

“ You have not yet told me,” she said abruptly, 
“ what you imagine can be this girl’s reasons for 
remaining unknown.” 

“ I can only guess them,” he said gravely ; “ I can 
only suppose that she is ashamed of her father and 
declines to meet any one connected with him. It is 
very wrong and very narrow of her. If I could talk 
to her for ten minutes and tell her how the poor old 
chap used to dream about her and kiss her picture, I 
can’t think but she’d be sorry.” 

“ Try and think,” she said, looking still away from 
him, “ that she must have another reason. You say 



246 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


that you liked her picture ! Try and be generous in 
your thoughts of her for its sake.” 

“ I will try,” he answered, “ especially-” 

“Yes?” 

“ Especially—because the picture makes me think 
—sometimes—of you 1 ” 


CHAPTER XXXIII 

FT!RENT had done many brave things in his life, but 
he had never been conscious of such a distinct 
thrill of nervousness as he experienced during those 
few minutes’ silence. Ernestine, for her part, was 
curiously exercised in her mind. He # had shaken her 
faith in his guilt—he had admitted her to his point of 
view. She judged herself from his standpoint, and the 
result was unpleasant. She had a sudden impulse to 
tell him the truth, to reveal her identity, tell him her 
reasons for concealment. Perhaps her suspicions had 
been hasty. Then the personal note in his last speech 
had produced a serious effect on her, and all the time 
she felt that her silence was emboldening him, as indeed 
it was. 

“ The first time I saw you,” he went on, “ the like¬ 
ness struck me. I felt as though I were meeting some 
one whom I had known all my life.” 

She laughed a little uneasily. 

“ And you found yourself instead the victim of an 
interviewer! What a drop from the romantic to the 
prosaic! ” 

“ There has never been any drop at all,” he answered 

247 


248 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


firmly, “ and you have always seemed to me the same 
as that picture—something quite precious and apart 
from my life. It’s been a poor sort of thing perhaps. 
I came from the people, I never had any education, I 
was as rough as most men of my sort, and I have done 
many things which I would sooner cut off my right 
hand than do again. But that was when I lived in 
the darkness. It was before you came.” 

“ Mr. Trent, will you take me back to Lady Tresham, 
please ?” 

“ In a moment,” he answered gravely. “ Don’t 
think that I am going to be too rash. I know the 
time hasn’t come yet. I am not going to say any 
more. Only I want you to know this. The whole 
success of my life is as nothing compared with the 
hope of one day-” 

“I will not hear another word,” she interrupted 
hastily, and underneath her white veil he could see a 
scarlet spot of colour in her cheeks ; in her speech, 
too, there was a certain tremulousness. “ If you will 
not come with me I must find Lady Tresham alone.” 

They turned round, but as they neared the middle 
of the paddock progress became almost impossible. 
The bell had rung for the principal race of the day and 
the numbers were going up. The paddock was crowded 
with others beside loiterers, looking the horses over 
and stolidly pushing their way through the little groups 
to the front rank. From Tattersall’s came the roar of 
clamorous voices. All around were evidences of that 
excitement which always precedes a great race. 

“ I think,” he said, “ that we had better watch the 
race from these railings. Your gown will be spoilt in 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


249 


the crowd if we try to get out of the paddock, and you 
probably wouldn’t get anywhere in time to see it.” 

She acquiesced silently, recognising that, although 
he had not alluded to it in words, he had no intention 
of saying anything further at present. Trent, who 
had been looking forward to the next few minutes with 
all the eagerness of a man who, for the first time in 
his life, runs the favourite in a great race, smiled as he 
realised how very content he was to stay where nothing 
could be seen until the final struggle was over. They 
took up their places side by side and leaned over the 
railing. 

“ Have you much money on Iris ? ” she asked. 

“A thousand both ways,” he answered. “I don’t 
plunge, but as I backed her very early I got 10 to 1 
and 7 to 2. Listen ! They’re off! ” 

There was a roar from across the course, followed 
by a moment’s breathless silence. The clamour of 
voices from Tattersall’s subsided, and in its place rose 
the buzz of excitement from the stands, the murmur 
of many voices gradually growing in volume. Far 
away down the straight Ernestine and Trent, leaning 
over the rail, could see the little coloured specks come 
dancing into sight. The roar of voices once more beat 
upon the air. 

“ Nero the Second wins ! ” 

“ The favourite’s done ! *' 

“ Nero the Second for a monkey! M 
“ Nero the Second romps in ! ” 

“ Iris ! Iris ! Iris wins ! ” 

It was evident from the last shout and the gathering 
storm of excitement that, after all, it was to be a race. 


250 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


They were well in sight now; Nero the Second and 
Iris, racing neck-and-neck, drawing rapidly away from 
the others. The air shook with the sound of hoarse 
and fiercely excited voices. 

“ Nero the Second wins 1 ” 

“ Iris wins ! ” 

Neck-and-neck they passed the post. So it seemed 
at least to Ernestine and many others, but Trent shook 
his head and looked at her with a smile. 

“ Iris was beaten by a short neck,” he said. “ Good 
thing you didn’t back her. That’s a fine horse of the 
Prince’s, though ! ” 

“I’m so sorry,” she cried. “ Are you sure?” 

He nodded and pointed to the numbers which weie 
going up. She flashed a sudden look upon him which 
more than compensated him for his defeat. At least 
he had earned her respect that day, as a man who 
knew how to accept defeat gracefully. They walked 
slowly up the paddock and stood on the edge of the 
crowd, whilst a great person went out to meet his 
horse amidst a storm of cheering. It chanced that he 
caught sight of Trent on the way, and, pausing for a 
moment, he held out his hand. 

“Your horse made a magnificent fight for it, Mr. 
Trent,” he said. “ I’m afraid I only got the verdict 
by a fluke. Another time may you be the fortunate 
one ! ” 

Trent answered him simply, but without awkward¬ 
ness. Then his horse came in and he held out his 
hand to the crestfallen jockey, whilst with his left he 
patted Iris’s head. 

“ Never mind, Dick,” he said cheerfully, “you rode 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


251 


a fine race and the best horse won. Better luck next 
time.” 

Several people approached Trent, but he turned 
away at once to Ernestine. 

“ You will let me take you to Lady Tresham now,” 
he said. 

“ If you please,” she answered quietly. 

They left the paddock by the underground way. 
When they emerged upon the lawn the band was 
playing and crowds of people were strolling about 
under the trees. 

“ The boxes,” Trent suggested, “must be very hot 
now! ” 

He turned down a side-walk away from the stand 
towards an empty seat under an elm-tree, and, after a 
moment’s scarcely perceptible hesitation, she followed 
his lead. He laughed softly to himself. If this was 
defeat, what in the world was better ? 

“ This is your first Ascot, is it not ? ” she asked. 

“ My first! ” 

“ And your first defeat ? ” 

“ I suppose it is,” he admitted cheerfully. “ I rather 
expected to win, too.” 

“ You must be very disappointed, I am afraid.” 

“ I have lost,” he said thoughtfully, “ a gold cup. I 
have gained-” 

She half rose and shook out her skirts as though 
about to leave him. He stopped short and found 
another conclusion to his sentence. 

“ Experience ! ” 

A faint smile parted her lips. She resumed her 
seat. 



252 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“1 am glad to find you,” she said, “ so much of a 
philosopher. Now talk to me for a few minutes about 
what you have been doing in Africa.” 

He obeyed her, and very soon she forgot the well- 
dressed crowd of men and women by whom they were 
surrounded, the light hum of gay conversation, the 
band which w T as playing the fashionable air of the 
v moment. She saw instead the long line of men of 
many races, stripped to the waist and toiling as though 
for their lives under a tropical sun, she saw the great 
brown water-jars passed down the line, men fainting 
beneath the burning sun and their places taken by 
others. She heard the shrill whistle of alarm, the 
beaten drum ; she saw the spade exchanged for the 
rifle, and the long line of toilers disappear behind the 
natural earthwork which their labours had created. 
She saw black forms rise stealthily from the long, rank 
grass, a flight of quivering spears, the horrid battle- 
cry of the natives rang in her ears. The whole drama 
of the man’s great past rose up before her eyes, made 
a living and real thing by his simple but vigorous 
language. That he effaced himself from it went for 
nothing; she saw him there perhaps more clearly than 
anything else, the central and domineering figure, a 
man of brains and nerve who, with his life in his 
hands, faced with equal immovability a herculean task 
and the chances of death. Certain phrases in Fred’s 
letter had sunk deep into her mind, they were recalled 
very vividly by the presence of the man himself, telling 
his own story. She sat in the sunlight with the music 
in her ears, listening to his abrupt, vivid speech, and a 
fear came to her which blanched her cheeks and 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


253 


caught at her throat. The hand which held her dainty 
parasol of lace shook, and an indescribable thrill ran 
through her veins. She could no more think of this 
man as a clodhopper, a coarse upstart without manners 
or imagination. In many ways he fell short of all the 
usual standards by which the men of her class were 
judged, yet she suddenly realised that he possessed a 
touch of that quality which lifted him at once far over 
their heads. The man had genius. Without education 
or culture he had yet achieved greatness. By his side 
the men who were passing about on the lawn became 
suddenly puppets. Form and style, manners and easy 
speech became suddenly stripped of their significance 
to her. The man at her side had none of these things, 
yet he was of a greater world. She felt her enmity 
towards him suddenly weakened. Only her pride now 
could help her. She called upon it fiercely. He was 
the man whom she had deliberately believed to be 
guilty of her father’s death, the man whom she had set 
herself to entrap. She brushed all those other thoughts 
away and banished firmly that dangerous kindness of 
manner into which she had been drifting. 

And he, on his part, felt a glow of keen pleasure 
when he realised how the events of the day had gone 
in his favour. If not yet of her world, he knew now 
that his becoming so would be hereafter purely a 
matter of time. He looked up through the green 
leaves at the blue sky, bedappled with white, fleecy 
clouds, and wondered whether she guessed that his 
appearance here, his ownership of Iris, the studious 
care with which he had placed himself in the hands of 
a Saville Row tailor were all for her sake. It was true 



254 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


that she had condescended to Bohemianism, that he 
had first met her as a journalist, working for her living 
in a plain serge suit and a straw hat. But he felt sure 
that this had been to a certain extent a whim with 
her. He stole a sidelong glance at her—she was the 
personification of daintiness from the black patent 
shoes showing beneath the flouncing of her skirt, to 
the white hat with its clusters of roses. Her foulard 
gown was as simple as genius could make it, and she 
wore no ornaments, save a fine clasp to her waistband 
of dull gold, quaintly fashioned, and the fine gold chain 
around her neck, from which hung her racing-glasses. 
She was to him the very type of everything aristocratic. 
It might be, as she had told him, that she chose to 
work for her living, but he knew as though by inspira¬ 
tion that her people and connections were of that 
world to which he could never belong, save on suffer¬ 
ance. He meant to belong to it, for her sake—to win 
her ! He admitted the presumption, but then it would 
be presumption of any man to lift his eyes to her. He 
estimated his chances with common sense ; he was not 
a man disposed to undervalue himself. He knew the 
power of his wealth and his advantage over the crowd 
of young men who were her equals by birth. For he 
had met some of them, had inquired into their lives, 
listened to their jargon, and had come in a faint sort 
of way to understand them. It had been an en¬ 
couragement to him. After all it was only serious 
work, life lived out face to face with the great realities 
of existence which could make a man. In a dim way 
he realised that there were few in her own class likely 
to satisfy Ernestine. He even dared to tell himself 


A MILLIONAIBE OF YE STEED AY 


255 


that those things which rendered him chiefly unfit for 
her, the acquired vulgarities of his rougher life, were 
things which he could put away; that a time would 
come when he would take his place confidently in her 
world, and that the end would be success. And all 
the while from out of the blue sky Fate was forging a 
thunderbolt to launch against him ! 


CHAPTER XXXIV 

“ A ND now,” she said, rising, “ you really must take 
me to Lady Tresham! They will think that I 
am lost.” 

“ Are you still at your rooms ? ” he asked. 

She nodded. 

“ Yes, only I’m having them spring-cleaned for a 
few days. I am staying at Tresham House.” 

“ May I come and see you there ? ” 

The man’s quiet pertinacity kindled a sort of indig¬ 
nation in her. The sudden weakness in her defences 
was unbearable. 

“ I think not,” she answered shortly. “You don’t 
know Lady Tresham, and they might not approve. 
Lady Tresham is rather old-fashioned.” 

“ Oh, Lady Tresham is all right,” he answered. “ I 
suppose I shall see you to-night if you are staying 
there. They have asked me to dinner! ” 

She was taken aback and showed it. Again he had 
the advantage. He did not tell her that on his return 
he had found scores of invitations from people he had 
never heard of before. 

“ You are by way of going into society, then,” she 
answered insolently. 


366 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


257 


“ I don’t think I’ve made any particular efforts,” he 
answered. 

“ Money,” she murmured,“ is an everlasting force ! ” 

“The people of your world,” he answered, with a 
flash of contempt, “ are the people who find it so.” 

She was silent then, and Trent was far from being 
discouraged by her momentary irritability. He was 
! crossing the lawn now by her side, carrying himself 
: well, with a new confidence in his air and bearing 
which she did not fail to take note of. The sunlight, 
the music, and the pleasant air of excitement were all 
in his veins. He was full of the strong joy of living. 
And then, in the midst of it all, came a dull, crashing 
blow. It was as though all his castles in the air had 
come toppling about his ears, the blue sky had turned 
to stony grey and the sweet waltz music had become 
a dirge. Always a keen watcher of men’s faces, he 
had glanced for a second time at a gaunt, sallow man 
who wore a loose check suit and a grey Homburg hat. 
The eyes of the two men met. Then the blood had 
turned to ice in Trent’s veins and the ground had 
heaved beneath his feet. It was the one terrible 
chance which Fate had held against him, and she had 
played the card. 

Considering the nature and suddenness of the blow 
which had fallen upon him, Trent’s recovery was 
marvellous. The two men had come face to face upon 
the short turf, involuntarily each had come to a stand¬ 
still. Ernestine looked from one to the other a little 
bewildered. 

“ I should like a word with you, Trent,” Captain 
Francis said quietly. 


17 



258 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Trent nodded. 

“ In five minutes,” he said, “ I will return here—on 
the other side of the band-stand, say.” 

Francis nodded and stood aside. Trent and Ernestine 
continued their progress towards the stand. 

“ Your friend,” Ernestine remarked, “ seemed to 
come upon you like a modern Banquo! ” 

Trent, who did not understand the allusion, was for 
once discreet. 

“ He is a man with whom I had dealings abroad,” 
he said, “ I did not expect him to turn up here.” 

“ In West Africa? ” she asked quickly. 

Trent smiled enigmatically. 

“ There are many foreign countries besides Africa,” 
he said, “ and I’ve been in most of them. This is box 
No. 13, then. I shall see you this evening.” 

She nodded, and Trent was free again. He did not 
make his way at once to the band-stand. Instead he 
entered the small refreshment-room at the base of 
the building and called for a glass of brandy. He 
drank it slowly, his eyes fixed upon the long row of 
bottles ranged upon the shelf opposite to him, he him¬ 
self carried back upon a long wave of thoughts to a 
little West African station where the moist heat rose 
in fever mists and where an endless stream of men 
passed backward and forward to their tasks with wan, 
weary faces and slowly dragging limbs. What a cursed 
chance which had brought him once more face to face 
with the one weak spot in his life, the one chapter 
which, had he the power, he would most willingly seal 
for ever! From outside came the ringing of a bell, the 
hoarse shouting of many voices in the ring, through 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


259 


the open door a vision of fluttering waves of colour, 
lace parasols and picture hats, little trills of feminine 
laughter, the soft rustling of muslins and silks. A few 
moments ago it had all seemed so delightful to him— 
and now there lay a hideous blot upon the day. 

It seemed to him when he left the little bar that he 
had been there for hours, as a matter of fact barely five 
minutes had passed since he had left Ernestine. He 
stood for a moment on the edge of the walk, dazzled 
by the sunlight, then he stepped on to the grass and 
made his way through the throng. The air was full of 
soft, gay music, and the skirts and flounces of the 
women brushed against him at every step. Laughter 
and excitement were the order of the day. Trent, 
with his suddenly pallid face and unseeing eyes, seemed 
a little out of place in such a scene of pleasure. Francis, 
who was smoking a cigar, looked up as he approached 
and made room for him upon the seat. 

“ I did not expect to see you in England quite so 
soon, Captain Francis,” Trent said. 

“ I did not expect,” Francis answered, “ ever to be 
in England again. I am told that my recovery was 
a miracle. I am also told that I owe my life to 
you! ” 

Trent shrugged his shoulders. 

“ I would have done as much for any of my people,” 
he said, “ and you don’t owe me any thanks. To be 
frank with you, I hoped you’d die.” 

“You could easily have made sure of it,” Francis 
answered. 

“ It wasn’t my way,” Trent answered shortly. “ Now 
what do you want with me?” 




260 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Francis turned towards him with a curious mixture 
of expressions in his face. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ I want to believe in you! 
You saved my life and I’m not over-anxious to do you 
a mischief. But you must tell me what you have done 
with Yill—Monty.” 

“ Don’t you know where he is ? ” Trent asked quickly. 

“ I ? Certainly not! How should I ? ” 

“Perhaps not,” Trent said, “but here’s the truth. 
When I got back to Attra Monty had disappeared—run 
away to England, and as yet I’ve heard never a word 
of him. I’d meant to do the square thing by him and 
bring him back myself. Instead of that he gave us all 
the slip, but unless he’s a lot different to what he was 
last time I saw him, he’s not fit to be about alone.” 

“ I heard that he had left,” Francis said, “ from Mr. 
Walsh.” 

“ He either came quite alone,” Trent said, “ in which 
case it is odd that nothing has been heard of him, or 
Da Souza has got hold of him.” 

“ Oom Sam’s brother? ” 

Trent nodded. 

“ And his interest ? ” Francis asked. 

“ Well, he is a large shareholder in the Company,” 
Trent said. “ Of course he could upset us all if he 
liked. I should say that Da Souza would try all he 
could to keep him in the background until he had dis¬ 
posed of his shares.” 

“ And how does your stock hold ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Trent said. “ I only landed 
yesterday. I’m pretty certain though that there’s 
no market for the whole of Da Souza’s holding.” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


261 


“ He has a large interest, then ? ” 

“A very large one,” Trent answered drily. 

“ I should like,” Francis said, “ to understand this 
matter properly. As a matter of fact I suppose that 
Monty is entitled to half the purchase-money you 
received for the Company.” 

Trent assented. 

“ It isn’t that I grudge him that,” he said, “ although, 
with the other financial enterprises I have gone into, I 
don’t know how I should raise half a million of money 
to pay him off. But don’t you see my sale of the 
charter to the Company is itself, Monty being alive, 
an illegal act. The title will be wrong, and the whole 
affair might drift into Chancery, just when a vigorous 
.policy is required to make the venture a success. If 
Monty were here and in his right mind, I think we 
could come to terms, but, when I saw him last at any 
rate, he was quite incapable, and he might become a 
tool to anything. The Bears might get hold of him 
and ruin us all. In short, it’s a beastly mess 1 ” 

Francis looked at him keenly. 

“ What do you expect me to do ? ” he asked. 

“ I have no right to expect anything,” Trent said. 
“ However, I saved your life and you may consider 
yourself therefore under some obligation to me. I will 
tell you then what I would have you do. In the first 
place, I know no more where he is than you do. He 
may be in England or he may not. I shall go to Da 
Souza, who probably knows. You can come with me 
if you like. I don’t want to rob the man of a penny. 
He shall have all he is entitled to—only I do want to 
arrange terms with him quietly, and not have the 




262 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


thing talked about. It’s as much for the others’ sake 
as my own. The men who came into my Syndicate 
trusted me, and I don’t want them left.” 

Francis took a little silver case from his pocket, lit 
a cigarette, and smoked for a moment or two thought¬ 
fully. 

“ It is possible,” he said at last, “ that you are an 
honest man. On the other hand you must admit that 
the balance of probabliity from my point of view is on 
the other side. Let us travel backwards a little way— 
to my first meeting with you. I witnessed the granting 
of this concession to you by the King of Bekwando. 
According to its wording you were virtually Monty’s 
heir, and Monty was lying drunk, in a climate where 
strong waters and death walk hand-in-hand. You 
leave him in the bush, proclaim his death, and take 
sole possession. I find him alive, do the best I can 
for him, and here the first act ends. Then what after¬ 
wards? I hear of you as an empire-maker and a 
millionaire. Nevertheless, Monty was alive and you 
knew he was alive, but when I reach Attra he has been 
spirited away! I want to know where! You say 
you don’t know. It may be true, but it doesn’t sound 
like it.” 

Trent’s under-lip was twitching, a sure sign of the 
tempest within, but he kept himself under restraint 
and said never a word. 

Francis continued, “ Now I do not wish to be your 
enemy, Scarlett Trent, or to do you an ill turn, but 
this is my word to you. Produce Monty within a 
w T eek and open reasonable negotiations for treating him 
fairly, and I will keep silent. But if you can’t produce 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


263 


him at the end of that time I must go to his relations 
and lay all these things before them.’' 

Trent rose slowly to his feet. 

“ Give me your address/’ he said, “ I will do what I 
can.” 

Francis tore a leaf from his pocket-book and wrote a 
few words upon it. 

“ That will find me at any time,” he said. “ One 
moment, Trent. When I saw you first you were with 
—a lady.” 

“ Well! ” 

“ I have been away from England so long,” Francis 
continued slowly, “ that my memory has suffered. Yet 
that lady’s face was somehow familiar. May I ask her 
name ? ” 

“ Miss Ernestine Wendermott,” Trent answered 
slowly. 

Francis threw away his cigarette and lit another. 

“ Thank you,” he said. 


mm'-* 



CHAPTER XXXV 


D A SOUZA’S office was neither furnished nor located 
with the idea of impressing casual visitors. It was 
in a back-street off an alley, and although within a 
stone’s throw of Lothbury its immediate surroundings 
were not exhilarating. A blank wall faced it, a green¬ 
grocer’s shop shared with a wonderful, cellar-like 
public-house the honour of its more immediate 
environment. Trent, whose first visit it was, looked 
about him with surprise mingled with some disgust. 

He pushed open the swing door and found himself 
face to face with Da Souza’s one clerk—a youth of 
•unkempt appearance, shabbily but flashily dressed, 
with sallow complexion and eyes set close together. 
He;w£Cs engaged at that particular moment in polishing 
a large diamond pin upon the sleeve of his coat, which 
operation he suspended to gaze with* much astonish¬ 
ment at this unlooked-for visitor. Trent had come 
straight from Ascot, straight indeed from his interview 
with Francis, and was still wearing his racing-glasses. 

“I wish to see Mr. Da Souza,” Trent said. “ Is he 
in?” 

“ I believe so, sir,” the boy answered. “ What 
name ? ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


265 


“ Trent! Mr. Scarlett Trent! ” 

The door of an inner office opened, and Da Souza, 
sleek and curled, presented himself. He showed all 
his white teeth in the smile with which he welcomed his 
visitor. The light of battle was in his small, keen 
eyes, in his cringing bow, his mock humility. 

“ I am most honoured, Mr. Trent, sir,” he declared. 
“ Welcome back to England. When did you return ? ” 

“Yesterday,” Trent said shortly. 

“And you have come,” Da Souza continued, “fresh 
from the triumphs of the race-course. It is so, I trust ? ” 

“ I have come straight from Ascot,” Trent replied, 
“ but my horse was beaten if that is what you mean. 
I did not come here to talk about racing though. I 
want a word with you in private.” 

“ With much pleasure, sir,” Da Souza answered, 
throwing open with a little flourish the door of his 
sanctum. “Will you step in ? This way! The chair 
is dusty. Permit me ! ” 

Trent threw a swift glance around the room in which 
he found himself. It was barely furnished, and a 
windows thick with dust, looked out on the dingy 
back-wall of a bank or some public building. The 
floor was uncovered, the walls were hung with yellow 
maps of gold-mines all in the West African district. 
Da Souza himself, spick and span, with glossy boots 
and a flower in his buttonhole, was certainly the least 
shabby thing in the room. 

“ You know very well,” Trent said, “ what I have 
come about. Of course you’ll pretend you don’t, so to 
save time I’ll tell you. What have you done with 
Monty?” 




266 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Da Souza spread outwards the palms of his hands. 
He spoke with well-affected impatience. 

“ Monty ! always Monty ! What do I want with 
him ? It is you who should look after him, not I.” 

Trent turned quietly round and locked the door. 
Da Souza would have called out, but a paroxysm of 
fear had seized him. His fat, white face was pallid, 
and his knees were shaking. Trent’s hand fell upon 
his shoulder, and Da Souza felt as though the claws of 
a trap had gripped him. 

“ If you call out I’ll throttle you,” Trent said. “ Now 
listen. Francis is in England and, unless Monty is 
produced, will tell the whole story. I shall do the best 
I can for all of us, but I’m not going to have Monty 
done to death. Come, let’s have the truth.” 

Da Souza was grey now with a fear greater even 
than a physical one. Fie had been so near wealth. 
Was he to lose everything? 

“ Mr. Trent,” he whispered, “my dear friend, have 
reason. Monty, I tell you, is only half alive, he hangs 
on, but it is a mere thread of life. Leave it all to me! 
To-morrow he shall be dead !—oh, quite naturally. 
There shall be no risk ! Trent, Trent! ” 

His cry ended in a gurgle, for Trent’s hand was on 
his throat. 

“ Listen, you miserable hound,” he whispered. 
“ Take me to him this moment, or I’ll shake the life 
out of you. Did you ever know me go back from my 
word ? ” 

Da Souza took up his hat with an ugly oath and 
yielded. The two men left the office together. 

* * * * 


* 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 267 


“ Listen !” 

The two women sat in silence, waiting for some 
repetition of the sound. This time there was certainly 
no possibility of any mistake. From the room above 
their heads came the feeble, quavering sobbing of an 
old man. Julie threw down her book and sprang up. 

“ Mother, I cannot bear it any longer,” she cried. 
“ I know where the key is, and I am going into that 
room.” 

“ Mrs. Da Souza’s portly frame quivered with 
excitement. 

“ My child,” she pleaded, “ don’t Julie, do re¬ 
member ! Your father will know, and then—oh, I 
shall be frightened to death ! ” 

“It is nothing to do with you, mother,” the girl 
said, “I am going.” 

Mrs. Da Souza produced a capacious pocket-handker¬ 
chief, reeking with scent, and dabbed her eyes with it. 
From the days when she too had been like Julie, slim 
and pretty, she had been every hour in dread of her 
husband. Long ago her spirit had been broken and her 
independence subdued. To her friend and confidants 
no word save of pride and love for her husband had 
ever passed her lips, yet now as she watched her 
daughter she was conscious of a wild, passionate wish 
that her fate at least might be a different one. And 
while she mopped her eyes and looked backward, Julie 
disappeared. 

Even Julie, as she ascended the stairs with the key 
of the locked room in her hand, was conscious of 
unusual tremors. If her position with regard to her 
father was not the absolute condition of serfdom into 


268 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


which her mother had been ground down, she was at 
least afraid of him, and she remembered the strict 
commands he had laid upon them all. The room was 
not to be open save by himself. All cries and entrea¬ 
ties were to he disregarded, every one was to behave 
as though that room did not exist. They had borne it 
already for days, the heart-stirring moans, the faint, 
despairing cries of the prisoner, and she could bear it 
no longer. She had a tender little heart, and from the 
first it had been moved by the appearance of the pitiful 
old man, leaning so heavily upon her father’s arm, 
as they had come up the garden walk together. She 
made up her mind to satisfy herself at least that his 
isolation was of his own choice. So she went boldly 
up the stairs and thrust the key into the lock. A 
moment’s hesitation, then she threw it open. 

Her first impulse, when she had looked into the face 
of the man who stumbled up in fear at her entrance, was 
to then and there abandon her enterprise—for Monty 
just then was not a pleasant sight to look upon. The 
room was foul with the odour of spirits and tobacco 
smoke. Monty himself was unkempt and unwashed, 
his eyes were bloodshot, and he had fallen half across 
the table with the gesture of a drunken man. At the 
sight of him her pity died away. After all, then, the 
sobbing they had heard was the maudlin crying of a 
drunken man. Yet he was very old, and there was 
something about the childish, breathless fear with 
which he was regarding her which made her hesitate. 
She lingered instead, and finding him tongue-tied, 
spoke to him. 

“We heard you talking to yourself downstairs,” 




A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 269 

she said, “and we were afraid that you might be in 
pain.’' 

“ Ah,” he muttered, “ That is all, then! There is 
no one behind you—no one who wants me!” 

“ There is no one in the house,” she assured him, 
“ save my mother and myself.” 

He drew a little breath which ended in a sob. 

“ You see,” he said vaguely, “ I sit up here hour by 
hour, and I think that I fancy things. Only a little 
while ago I fancied that I heard Mr. Walsh’s voice, 
and he wanted the mission-box, the wooden box with 
the cross, you know. I keep on thinking I hear him. 
Stupid, isn’t it ? ” 

He smiled weakly, and his bony fingers stole round 
the tumbler which stood by his side. She shook her 
head at him smiling, and crossed over to him. She 
was not afraid any more. 

“ I wouldn’t drink if I were you,” she said, “ it can’t 
be good for you, I’m sure! ” 

“Good,” he answered slowly, “it’s poison—rank 
poison.” 

“ If I were you,” she said, “ I would put all this 
stuff away and go for a nice walk. It would do you 
much more good.” 

He shook his head. 

“I daren’t,” he whispered. “They’re looking for 
me now. I must hide—hide all the time! ” 

“ Who are looking for you ? ” she asked. 

“ Don’t you know? Mr. Walsh and his wife ! They 
have come over after me ! ” 

“Why?” 

“ Didn’t you know,” he muttered,“that I am a thief ? ” 



270 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


She shook her head. 

“ No, I certainly didn’t. I’m very sorry! ” 

He nodded his head vigorously a great many times. 

“ Won’t you tell me about it ? ” she asked. “Was it 
anything very bad ? ’’ 

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s so hard to re¬ 
member ! It is something like this! I seem to have 
lived for such a long time, and when I look back I 
can remember things that happened a very long time 
ago, but then there seems a gap, and everything is all 
misty, and it makes my head ache dreadfully to try 
and remember,” he moaned. 

“ Then don’t try,” she said kindly. “ I’ll read to you 
for a little time if you like, and you shall sit quite 
quiet.” 

He seemed not to have heard her. He continued 
presently— 

“ Once before I died, it was all I wanted. Just to 
have heard her speak, to have seen my little girl grown 
into a woman, and the sea was always there, and Oom 
Sam would always come with that cursed rum. Then 
one day came Trent and talked of money and spoke of 
England, and when he went away it rang for ever in 
my ears, and at night I heard her calling for me across 
the sea. So I stole out, and the great steamer was 
lying there with red fires at her funnel, and I was mad. 
She was crying for me across the sea, so I took the 
money! ” 

She patted his hand gently. There was a lump in 
her throat, and her eyes were wet. 

“Was it your daughter you wanted so much to 
see?” she asked softly. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 271 


“ My daughter! My little girl/’ he answered. 
“And I heard her calling to me with her mother’s 
voice across the sea. So I took the money.” 

“No one would blame you very much for that, I am 
sure,” she said cheerfully. “ You are frightening 
yourself needlessly. I will speak to Father, and he 
shall help you.” 

He held up his hand. 

“ He is hiding me,” he whispered. “ It is through 
him I knew that they were after me. I don’t mind for 
myself, but she might get to know, and I have brought 
disgrace enough upon her. Listen ! ” 

There were footsteps upon the stairs. He clung to 
her in an agony of terror. 

“ They are coming! ” he cried. “ Hide me! Oh, hide 
me! ” 

But she too was almost equally terrified, for she 
had recognised her father’s tread. The door was 
thrown open and De Souza entered, followed by 
Scarlett Trent. 







CHAPTER XXXYI 


T HE old man and the girl were equally terrified, 
both without cause. Da Souza forgot for a 
moment to be angry at his daughter’s disobedience, 
and was quick to see that her presence there was all to 
his advantage. Monty, as white as death, was stricken 
dumb to see Trent. He sank back gasping into a 
chair. Trent came up to him with outstretched hands 
and with a look of keen pity in his hard face. 

“Monty, old chap,” he said, “what on earth are 
you scared at ? Don’t you know I’m glad to see you! 
Didn’t I come to Attra to get you back to England ? 
Shake hands, partner. I’ve got lots of money for 
you and good news.” 

Monty’s hand was limp and cold, his eyes were 
glazed and expressionless. Trent looked at the half- 
empty bottle by his side and turned savagely to Da 
Souza. 

“You blackguard!” he said in a low tone, “you 
wanted to kill him, did you? Don’t you know that 
to shut him up here and ply him with brandy is as 
much murder as though you stood with a knife at his 
throat ? ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 273 


“ He goes mad without something to drink,” Da 
Souza muttered. 

“ He’ll go mad fast enough with a bottle of brandy 
within reach, and you know it,” Trent answered 
fiercely. “ I am going to take him away from here.” 

Da Souza was no longer cringing. He shrugged his 
shoulders and thrust his fat little hands into his 
trousers pockets. 

“Very well,” he said darkly, “you go your own 
way. You won’t take my advice. I’ve been a City 
man all my life, and I know a thing or two. You 
bring Monty to the general meeting of the Bekwando 
Company and explain his position, and I tell you, 
you’ll have the whole market toppling about your ears. 
No concern of mine, of course. I have got rid of a 
few of my shares, and I’ll work a few more off before 
the crash. But what about you ? What about 
Scarlett Trent, the millionaire ? ” 

“ I can afford to lose a bit,” Trent answered quietly, 
“ I’m not afraid.” 

Da Souza laughed a little hysterically. 

“You think you’re a financial genius, I suppose,” he 
said, “ because you’ve brought a few things off. Why, 
you don’t know the A B C of the thing. I tell you 
this, my friend. A Company like the Bekwando 
Company is very much like a woman’s reputation, 
drop a hint or two, start just a bit of talk, and I tell 
you the flames ’ll soon do the work.” 

Trent turned his back upon him. 

“ Monty,” he said, “ you aren’t afraid to come with 
me?” 

Monty looked at him, perplexed and troubled. 

18 



274 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ You’ve nothing to be afraid of,” Trent continued. 
“As to the money at Mr. Walsh’s house, I settled that 
all up with him before I left Attra. It belonged to 
you really, for I’d left more than that for you.” 

“ There is no one, then,” Monty asked in a slow, 
painful whisper, “ who will put me in prison ? ” 

“ I give you my word, Monty,” Trent declared, 
“that there is not a single soul who has any idea of 
the sort.” 

“ You see, it isn’t that I mind, ” Monty continued in 
a low, quivering voice, “but there’s my little girl! 
My real name might come out, and I wouldn’t have her 
know what I’ve been for anything.” 

“ She shall not know,” Trent said, “ I’ll promise 
you’ll be perfectly safe with me.” 

Monty rose up weakly. His knees were shaking, 
and he was in a pitiful state. He cast a sidelong 
glance at the brandy bottle by his side, and his hand 
stole out towards it. But Trent stopped him gently 
but firmly. 

“Not now, Monty,” he said, “you’ve had enough 
of that! ” 

The man’s hand dropped to his side. He looked 
into Trent’s face, and the years seemed to fade away 
into a mist. 

“ You were always a hard man, Scarlett Trent,” he 
said. “You were always hard on me! ” 

“ May be so,” Trent answered, “ yet you’d have 
died in D.T. before now but for me ! I kept you 
from it as far as I could. I’m going to keep you 
from it now! ” 

Monty turned a woebegone face around the little room. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


275 


“ I don’t know,” he said; “ I’m comfortable here, 
and I’m too old, Trent, to live your life. I’d begin 
again, Trent, I would indeed, if I were ten years 
younger. It’s too late now! I couldn’t live a day 
without something to keep up my strength! ” 

“ He’s quite right, Trent,” Da Souza put in hastily. 
“ He’s too old to start afresh now. He’s comfortable 
here and well looked after; make him an allowance, or 
give him a good lump sum in lieu of all claims. I’ll 
draw it out; you’ll sign it, won’t you, Monty? Be 
reasonable, Trent! It’s the best course for all of us ! ” 

But Trent shook his head. “ I have made up my 
mind,” he said. “ He must come with me. Monty, 
there is the little girl! ” 

“ Too late,” Monty moaned ; “ look at me! ” 

“ But if you could leave her a fortune, make her 
magnificent presents ? ” 

Monty wavered then. His dull eyes shone once 
more! 

“ If I could do that,” he murmured. 

“I pledge my word that you shall,” Trent answered. 

Monty rose up. 

“I am ready,” he said simply. “Let us start at 
once.” 

Da Souza planted himself in front of them. 

“ You defy me ! ” he said. “ You will not trust him 
with me or take my advice. Very well, my friend! 
Now listen! You want to ruin me! Well, if I go, 
the Bekwando Company shall go too, you understand! 
Buin for me shall mean ruin for Mr. Scarlett Trent— 
ah, ruin and disgrace. It shall mean imprisonment if 
I can bring it about, and I have friends! Don’t you 





276 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


know that you are guilty of fraud? You sold what 
wasn’t yours and put the money in your pocket! 
You left your partner to rot in a fever swamp, or to 
be done to death by those filthy blacks. The law will 
call that swindling! You will find yourself in the 
dock, my friend, in the prisoners’ dock, I say ! Come, 
how do you like that, Mr. Scarlett Trent? If you 
leave this room with him, you are a ruined man. I 
shall see to it.” 

Trent swung him out of the way—a single con¬ 
temptuous turn of the wrist, and Da Souza reeled 
against the mantelpiece. He held out his hand to 
Monty and they left the room together. 


CHAPTEK XXXVII 


“ T71K0M a conversational point of view/* Lady 

J- Tresham remarked, “our guest to-night seems 
scarcely likely to distinguish himself.” 

Ernestine looked over her fan across the drawing¬ 
room. 

“ I have never seen such an alteration in a man/' 
she said, “in so short a time. This morning he 
amazed me. He knew the right people and did the 
right things—carried himself too like a man who is 
sure of himself. To-night he is simply a booby.” 

“ Perhaps it is his evening clothes,” Lady Tresham 
remarked, “ they take some getting used to, I believe.” 

“ This morning,” Ernestine said, “ he had passed 
that stage altogether. This is, I suppose, a relapse! 
Such a nuisance for you ! ” 

Lady Tresham rose and smiled sweetly at the man 
who was taking her in. 

“Well, he is to be your charge, so I hope you 
may find him more amusing than he looks,” she 
answered. 

It was an early dinner, to be followed by a visit to a 
popular theatre. A few hours ago Trent was looking 

277 



278 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


forward to his evening with the keenest pleasure—now 
he was dazed—he could not readjust his point of view 
to the new conditions. He knew very well that it was 
his wealth, and his wealth only, which had brought 
him as an equal amongst these people, all, so far as 
education and social breeding was concerned, of so 
entirely a different sphere. He looked around the table. 
What would they say if they knew? He would be thrust 
out as an interloper. Opposite to him was a Peer who 
was even then engaged in threading the meshes of the 
Bankruptcy Court, what did they care for that ?—not a 
whit! He was of their order though he was a beggar. 
But as regards himself, he was fully conscious of the 
difference. The measure of his wealth was the 
measure of his standing amongst them. Without it 
he would be thrust forth—he could make no claim to 
association with them. The thought filled him with a 
slow, bitter anger. He sent away his soup untasted, 
and he could not find heart to speak to the girl 
who had been the will-o’-the-wisp leading him into 
this evil plight. 

Presently she addressed him. 

“ Mr. Trent! ” 

He turned round and looked at her. 

“ Is it necessary for me to remind you, I wonder/' 
she said, “ that it is usual to address a few remarks— 
quite as a matter of form, you know—to the woman 
whom you bring in to dinner? ” 

He eyed her dispassionately. 

“ I am not used to making conversation,” he said. 
“ Is there anything in the world which I could talk 
about likely to interest you?” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


279 


She took a salted almond from a silver dish by his side 
and smiled sweetly upon him. “ Dear me ! ” she said, 
“ how fierce ! Don’t attempt it if you feel like that, 
please ! What have you been doing since I saw you 
last?—losing your money or your temper, or both ? ” 
He looked at her with a curiously grim smile. 

“ If I lost the former,” he said, “ I should very soon 
cease to be a person of interest, or of any account 
at all, amongst your friends.” 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

“You do not strike one,” she remarked, “as the sort 
of person likely to lose a fortune on the race-course.” 

“You are quite right,” he answered, “I think that 
I won money. A couple of thousand at least.” 

“ Two thousand pounds ! ” She actually sighed, and 
lost her appetite for the oyster patty with which she 
had been trifling. Trent looked around the table. 

“At the same time,” he continued in a lower key, 
“ I’ll make a confession to you, Miss Wendermott, 
I wouldn’t care to make to any one else here. I’ve 
been pretty lucky as you know, made money fast—piled 
it up in fact. To-day, for the first time, I have come 
face to face with the possibility of a reverse.” 

“ Is this a new character? ” she murmured. “Are 
you becoming faint-hearted? ” 

“It is no ordinary reverse,” he said slowly. “It 
is collapse—everything ! ” 

“ 0—oh ! ” 

She looked at him attentively. Her own heart was 
beating. If he had not been engrossed by his care lest 
any one might over-hear their conversation, he would 
have been astonished at the change in her face 




280 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“You are talking in enigmas surely,” she said. 
“ Nothing of that sort could possibly happen to you. 
They tell me that the Bekwando Land shares are 
priceless, and that you must make millions.” 

“ This afternoon,” he said, raising his glass to his 
lips and draining it, “I think that I must have dozed 
upon the lawn at Ascot. I sat there for some time, 
back amongst the trees, and I think that I must have 
fallen to sleep. There was a whisper in my ears and I 
saw myself stripped of everything. How was it ? I 
forget now ! A concession repudiated, a bank failure, 
a big slump—what does it matter ? The money was 
gone, and I was simply myself again, Scarlett Trent, a 
labourer, penniless and of no account.” 

“ It must have been an odd sensation,” she said 
thoughtfully. 

“ I will tell you what it made me realise,” he said. 
“ I am drifting into a dangerous position. I am linking 
myself to a little world to whom, personally, I am as 
nothing and less than nothing. I am tolerated for my 
belongings! If by any chance I were to lose these, 
what would become of me ? ” 

“ You are a man,” she said, looking at him earnestly; 
“ you have the nerve and wits of a man, what you 
have done before you might do again.” 

“ In the meantime I should be ostracised.” 

“By a good many people, no doubt.” 

He held his peace for a time, and ate and drank 
what was set before him. He was conscious that 
his was scarcely a dinner-table manner. He was too 
eager, too deeply in earnest. People opposite were 
looking at them, Ernestine talked to her vis-a-vis. It 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


281 


was some time before he spoke again, when he did he 
took up the thread of their conversation where he had 
left it. 

“ By the majority, of course,” he said. “ I have 
wondered sometimes whether there might be any 
one who would be different.” 

“ I should be sorry,” she said demurely. 

“ Sorry, yes; so would the tradespeople who had 
had my money and the men who call themselves 
my friends and forget that they are my debtors.” 

“ You are cynical.” 

“ I cannot help it,” he answered. u It is my dream. 
To-day, you know, I have stood face to face with evil 
things.” 

“Do you know,” she said, “ I should never have 
called you a dreamer, a man likely to fancy things. I 
wonder if anything has really happened to make you 
talk like this? ” 

He flashed a quick glance at her underneath his 
heavy brows. Nothing in her face betrayed any more 
than the most ordinary interest in what he was saying. 
Yet somehow, from that moment, he had uneasy 
doubts concerning her, whether there might be by any 
chance some reason for the tolerance and the interest 
with which she had regarded him from the first. The 
mere suspicion of it was a shock to him. He relapsed 
once more into a state of nervous silence. Ernestine 
yawned, and her hostess threw more than one pitying 
glance towards her. 

Afterwards the whole party adjourned to the theatre, 
altogether in an informal manner. Some of the guests 
had carriages waiting, others went down in hansoms. 





282 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


Ernestine was rather late in coming downstairs and 
found Trent waiting for her in the hall. She was 
wearing a wonderful black satin opera cloak with pale 
green lining, her maid had touched up her hair and 
wound a string of pearls around her neck. He 
watched her as she came slowly down the stairs, 
buttoning her gloves, and looking at him with eye¬ 
brows faintly raised to see him waiting there alone. 
After all, what folly! Was it likely that wealth, 
however great, could ever make him of her world, 
could ever bring him in reality one degree nearer to 
her? That night he had lost all confidence. He told 
himself that it was the rankest presumption to even 
think of her. 

“ The others,” he said, “ have gone on. Lady 
Tresham left word that I was to take you.” 

She glanced at the old-fashioned clock which stood 
in the corner of the hall. 

“ How ridiculous to have hurried so!” she said. 
One might surely be comfortable here instead of 
waiting at the theatre.” 

She walked towards the door with him. His own 
little night-brougham was waiting there, and she 
stepped into it. 

“I am surprised at Lady Tresham,” she said, 
smiling. “ I really don’t think that I am at all properly 
chaperoned. This comes, I suppose, from having 
acquired a character for independence.” 

Her gown seemed to fill the carriage—a little sea of 
frothy lace and muslin. He hesitated on the pavement. 

“Shall I ride outside?” he suggested. “I don’t 
want to crush you.” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


283 


She gathered up her skirt at once and made room 
for him. He directed the driver and stepped in beside 
her. 

“I hope,” she said, “that your cigarette restored 
your spirits. You are not going to be as dull all the 
evening as you were at dinner, are you ? ” 

He sighed a little wistfully. “ I’d like to talk to 
you,” he said simply, “ but somehow to-night . . . you 
know it was much easier when you were a journalist 
from the Hour.” 

“Well, that is what I am now,” she said, laughing. 
“ Only I can’t get away from all my old friends at 
once. The day after to-morrow I shall be back at 
work.” 

“ Do you mean it ? ” he asked incredulously. 

“ Of course I do ! You don’t suppose I find this sort 
of thing particularly amusing, do you ? Hasn’t it ever 
occurred to you that there must be a terrible sameness 
about people who have been brought up amongst 
exactly the same surroundings and taught to regard 
life from exactly the same point of view ? ” 

“ But you belong to them—you have their instincts.” 

“ I may belong to them in some ways, but you know 
that I am a revolted daughter. Haven’t I proved it ? 
Haven’t I gone out into the world, to the horror of all 
my relatives, for the sole purpose of getting a firmer 
grip of life? And yet, do you know, Mr. Trent, I 
believe that to-night you have forgotten that. You 
have remembered my present character only, and, in 
despair of interesting a fashionable young lady, you 
have not talked to me at all, and I have been very 
dull.” 




284 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“ It is quite true,” he assented. “All around us they 
were talking of things of which I knew nothing, and 
you were one of them.” 

“ How foolish ! You could have talked to me about 
Fred and the road-making in Africa and I should have 
been more interested than in anything they could have 
said to me.” 

They were passing a brilliantly-lit corner, and the 
light flashed upon his strong, set face with its heavy 
eyebrows and firm lips. He leaned back and laughed 
hoarsely. Was it her fancy, she wondered, or did 
he seem not wholly at his ease. 

“Haven’t I told you a good deal? I should have 
thought that Fred and J between us had told you all 
about Africa that you would care to hear.” 

She shook her head. What she said next sounded 
to him, in a certain sense, enigmatic. 

“ There is a good deal left for you to tell me,” she 
said. “ Some day I shall hope to know everything.” 

He met her gaze without flinching. 

“ Some day,” he said, “ I hope you will.” 


CHAPTER, XXXVIII 

rnHE carriage drew up at the theatre and he handed 
her out—a little awkwardly perhaps, but without 
absolute clumsiness. They found all the rest of the 
party already in their seats and the curtain about to 
go up. They took the two end stalls, Trent on 
the outside. One chair only, next to him, remained 
unoccupied. 

“ You people haven’t hurried,” Lady Tresham 
remarked, leaning forward. 

“We are in time at any rate,” Ernestine answered, 
letting her cloak fall upon the back of the stall. 

The curtain was rung up and the play began. It 
was a modern society drama, full of all the most up-to- 
date fashionable jargon and topical illusions. Trent 
grew more and more bewildered at every moment. 
Suddenly, towards the end of the first act, a fine 
dramatic situation leaped out like a tongue of fire. 
The interest of the whole audience, up to then only 
mildly amused, became suddenly intense. Trent sat 
forward in his seat. Ernestine ceased to fan herself. 
The man and the woman stood face to face—the light 

285 



286 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


badinage which had been passing between them 
suddenly ended—the man, with his sin stripped bare, 
mercilessly exposed, the woman, his accuser, passionately 
eloquent, pouring out her scorn upon a mute victim. 
The audience knew what the woman in the play did 
not know, that it was for love of her that the man had 
sinned, to save her from a terrible danger which had 
hovered very near her life. The curtain fell, the 
woman leaving the room with a final taunt flung over 
her shoulder, the man seated at a table looking stead¬ 
fastly into the fire with fixed, unseeing eyes. The 
audience drew a little breath and then applauded ; the 
orchestra struck up and a buzz of conversation began. 

It was then that Ernestine first noticed how absorbed 
the man at her side had become. His hands were 
gripping the arms of the stall, his eyes were fixed upon 
the spot somewhere behind the curtain where this 
sudden little drama had been played out, as though 
indeed they could pierce the heavy upholstery and see 
beyond into the room where the very air seemed 
quivering still with the vehemence of the woman’s 
outpoured scorn. Ernestine spoke to him at last, the 
sound of her voice brought him back with a start to 
the present. 

“You like it? ” 

“ The latter part,” he answered. “ What a sudden 
change! At first I thought it rubbish, afterwards it 
was wonderful! ” 

“ Hubert is a fine actor,” she remarked, fanning 
herself. “ It was his first opportunity in the play, and 
he certainly took advantage of it.” 

He turned deliberately round in his seat towards her. 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 287 


and she was struck with the forceful eagerness of his 
dark, set face. 

“ The man,” he whispered hoarsely, “ sinned for the 
love of the woman. Was he right ? Would a woman 
forgive a man who deceived her for her own sake 
—when she knew ? ” 

Ernestine held up her programme and studied it 
deeply. 

“ I cannot tell,” she said, “ it depends.” 

Trent drew a little breath and turned away. A quiet 
voice from his other side whispered in his ear— 

“The woman would forgive if she cared for the 
man.” 


* * • • * 

Trent turned sharply and the light died out of his 
voice. Surely it was an evil omen, this man’s 
coming; for it was Captain Francis who had taken the 
vacant seat and who was watching his astonishment 
with a somewhat saturnine smile. 

“ Rather a stupid play, isn’t it ? By the by, Trent, 
I wish you would ask Miss Wendermott’s permission 
to present me. I met her young cousin out at Attra.” 

Ernestine heard and leaned forward smiling. Trent 
did as he was asked, with set teeth and an ill grace. 
From then, until the curtain went up for the next act, 
he had only to sit still and listen. 

Afterwards the play scarcely fulfilled the promise of 
its commencement. At the third act Trent had lost 
all interest in it. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. 
He drew a card from his pocket and, scribbling a word 





288 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


or two on it, passed it along to Lady Tresham. She 
leaned forward and smiled approval upon him. 

“ Delightful! ” 

Trent reached for his hat and whispered in 
Ernestine’s ear. 

“You are all coming to supper with me at the 
‘ Milan/ ” he said ; “I am going on now to see about 
it.” 

She smiled upon him, evidently pleased. 

“ What a charming idea! But do you mean all of 
us?” 

“Why not?” 

He found his carriage outside without much diffi¬ 
culty and drove quickly round to the Milan Restaurant. 
The director looked doubtful. 

“ A table for eighteen, sir ! It is quite too late to 
arrange it, except in a private room.” 

“ The ladies prefer the large room,” Trent answered 
decidedly, “ and you must arrange it somehow. I’ll 
give you carte blanche as to what you serve, but it 
must be of the best.” 

The man bowed. This must be a millionaire, for 
the restaurant was the “ Milan.” 

“ And the name, sir ? ” 

“ Scarlett Trent—you may not know me, but Lady 
Tresham, Lord Colliston, and the Earl of Howton are 
amongst my guests.” 

The man saw no more difficulties. The name of 
Scarlett Trent was the name which impressed him. 
The English aristocrat he had but little respect for, 
but a millionaire was certainly next to the gods. 

“ We must arrange the table crossways, sir, at 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


289 


the end of the room,” he said. “And about the 
flowers? ” 

“The best, and as many as you can get,” Trent 
answered shortly. “ I have a £100 note with me. I 
shall not grumble if I get little change out of it, but I 
want value for the money.” 

“You shall have it, sir! ” the man answered signifi¬ 
cantly—and he kept his word. 

Trent reached the theatre only as the people were 
streaming out. In the lobby he came face to face with 
Ernestine and Francis. They were talking together 
earnestly, but ceased directly they saw him. 

“ I have been telling Captain Francis,” Ernestine 
said, “ of your delightful invitation.” 

“ I hope that Captain Francis will join us,” Trent 
said coldly. 

Francis stepped behind for a moment to light a 
cigarette. 

“ I shall be delighted,” he answered. 

• • • • • 

The supper party was one of those absolute and 
complete successes which rarely fall to the lot of even 
the most carefully thought out of social functions. 
Every one of Lady Tresham’s guests had accepted the 
hurried invitation, every one seemed in good spirits, 
and delighted at the opportunity of unrestrained con¬ 
versation after several hours at the theatre. The 
supper itself, absolutely the best of its kind, from the 
caviare and plovers’ eggs to the marvellous ices, and 
served in one of the handsomest rooms in London, was 
19 



290 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


really beyond criticism. To Trent it seemed almost 
like a dream, as he leaned back in his chair and looked 
down at the little party—the women with their bare 
shoulders and jewels, bathed in the soft glow of the 
rose-shaded electric lights, the piles of beautiful pink 
and white flowers, the gleaming silver, and the wine 
which frothed in their glasses. The music of the 
violins on the balcony blended with the soft, gay voices 
of the women. Ernestine was by his side, every one 
was good-humoured and enjoying his hospitality. Only 
one face at the table was a reminder of the instability 
of his fortunes—a face he had grown to hate during 
the last few hours with a passionate, concentrated 
hatred. Yet the man was of the same race as these 
people, his connections were known to many of them, 
he was making new friends and reviving old ties every 
moment. During a brief lull in the conversation his 
clear, soft voice suddenly reached Trent’s ears. He 
was telling a story. 

“ Africa,” he was saying, “ is a country of surprises. 
Attra seems to be a city of hopeless exile for all white 
people. Last time I was there I used to notice j^ery 
day a very old man making a pretence of workman a 
kitchen garden attached to a little white mission-house 
—a Basle Society depot. He always seemed to be 
leaning on his spade, always gazing out seawards in 
the same intent, fascinated way. Some one told me 
his history at last. He was an Englishman of good 
position who had got into trouble in his younger days 
and served a term of years in prison. When he came 
out, sooner than disgrace his family further, he pub¬ 
lished a false account of his death and sailed under a 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


291 


disguised name for Africa. There he has lived ever 
since, growing older and sinking lower, often near 
fortune but always missing it, a slave to bad habits, 
weak and dissolute if you like, but ever keeping up 
his voluntary sacrifice, ever with that unconquerable 
longing for one last glimpse of his own country and his 
own people. I saw him, not many months ago, still 
there, still with his eyes turned seawards and with the 
same wistful droop of the head. Somehow I can’t help 
thinking that that old man was also a hero.” 

The tinkling of glasses and the soft murmuring of 
whispered conversation had ceased during Francis’ story. 
Every one was a little affected—the soft throbbing of 
the violins upon the balcony was almost a relief. Then 
there was a little murmur of sympathetic remarks— 
but amongst it all Trent sat at the head of the table 
with white, set face but with red fire before his eyes. 
This man had played him false. He dared not look at 
Ernestine—only he knew that her eyes were wet with 
tears and that her bosom was heaving. 

The spirits of men and women who sup are mercurial 
things, and it was a gay leave-taking half an hour or 
so later in the little Moorish room at the head of the 
staircase. But Ernestine left her host without even 
appearing to see his outstretched hand, and he let her 
go without a word. Only when Francis would have 
followed her Trent laid a heavy hand upon his 
shoulder. 

“ I must have a word with you, Francis,” he said. 

“I will come back,” he said. “I must see Miss 
Wendermott into her carriage.” 

But Trent’s hand remained there, a grip of iron 




292 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


from which there was no escaping. He said nothing, 
but Francis knew his man and had no idea of making 
a scene. So he remained till the last had gone and a 
tall, black servant had brought their coats from the 
cloak-room. 

“You will come with me please,” Trent said, “I 
have a few words to say to you.” 

Francis shrugged his shoulders and obeyed. 


CHAPTEE XXXIX 


S CAECELY a word passed between the two men 
until they found themselves in the smoking-room 
of Trent’s house. A servant noiselessly arranged 
decanters and cigars upon the sideboard, and, in 
response to an impatient movement of Trent’s, with¬ 
drew. Francis lit a cigarette. Trent, contrary to his 
custom, did not smoke. He walked to the door and 
softly locked it. Then he returned and stood looking 
down at his companion. 

“ Francis,” he said, 44 you have been my enemy since 
the day I saw you first in Bekwando village.” 

“ Scarcely that,” Francis objected. “ I have dis¬ 
trusted you since then if you like.” 

“ Call it what you like,” Trent answered. 11 Only 
to-night you have served me a scurvy trick. You were 
a guest at my table and you gave me not the slightest 
warning. On the contrary, this morning you offered 
me a week’s respite.” 

“ The story I told,” Francis answered, “ could have 
had no significance to them.” 

“I don’t know whether you are trying to deceive 




294 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


me or not,” Trent said, “ only if you do not know, 
let me tell you—Miss Wendermott is that old man’s 
daughter! ” 

The man’s start was real. There was no doubt 
about that. “And she knew?” 

“ She knew that he had been in Africa, but she 
believed that he had died there. What she believes at 
this moment I cannot tell. Your story evidently 
moved her. She will probably try to find out from you 
the truth.” 

Francis nodded. 

“ She has asked me to call upon her to-morrow.” 

“ Exactly. Now, forgive my troubling you with 
personal details, but you’ve got to understand. I 
mean Miss -Wendermott to be my wife.” 

Francis sat up in his chair genuinely surprised. 
Something like a scowl was on his dark, sallow 
face. 

“Your wife!*' he exclaimed, “aren’t you joking, 
Trent ? ” 

“ I am not,” Trent answered sharply. “ From the 
moment I saw her that has been my fixed inten¬ 
tion. Every one thinks of me as simply a speculator 
with the money fever in my veins. Perhaps that 
was true once. It isn’t now ! I must be rich to 
give her the position she deserves. That’s all I care 
for money.” 

“Iam very much interested,” Francis said slowdy, 
“to hear of your intentions. Hasn’t it occurred to 
you, however, that your behaviour toward Miss 
Wendermott’s father will take a great deal of ex¬ 
planation ? ” 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 295 


“If there is no interference,” Trent said, “I can do 
it. There is mystery on her part too, for I offered a 
large reward and news of him through my solicitor, and 
she actually refused to reply. She has refused any 
money accruing to her through her father, or to be 
brought into contact with any one who could tell her 
about him.” 

“The fact,” Francis remarked drily, “is scarcely 
to her credit. Monty may have been disreputable 
enough, I’ve no doubt he was; but his going away 
and staying there all these years was a piece of 
noble unselfishness.” 

“ Monty has been hardly used in some ways,” Trent 
said. “ I’ve done my best by him, though.” 

“That,” Francis said coldly, “is a matter of 
opinion.” 

“ I know very well,” Trent answered, “ what yours 
is. You are welcome to it. You can blackguard me 
all round London if you like in a week—but I want a 
j week’s grace.” 

“ Why should I grant it you ? ” 

Trent shrugged his shoulders. 

“ I won’t threaten,” he said, “ and I won’t offer to 
bribe you, but I’ve got to have that week’s grace. 
We’re both men, Francis, who’ve been accustomed to 
our own way, I think. I want to know on what terms 
you’ll grant it me.” 

Francis knocked the ash off his cigarette and rose 
slowly to his feet. 

“ You want to know,” he repeated meditatively, “ on 
what terms I’ll hold my tongue for a week. Well, 
here’s my answer ! On no terms at all I ” 





296 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


“You don’t mean that,” Trent said quietly. 

“ We shall see,” Francis answered grimly, “ I’ll be 
frank with you, Trent. When we came in here you 
called me your enemy. Well, in a sense you were 
right. I distrusted and disliked you from the moment 
I first met you in Bekwando village with poor old 
Monty for a partner, and read the agreement you had 
drawn up and the clause about the death of either 
making the survivor sole legatee. In a regular fever 
swamp Monty was drinking poison like water—and 
you were watching. That may have seemed all right 
to you. To me it was very much like murder. It was 
my mistrust of you which made me send men after 
you both through the bush, and, sure enough, they 
found poor Monty abandoned, left to die while you 
had hastened off to claim your booty. After that I 
had adventures enough of my own for a bit and I lost 
sight of you until I came across you and your gang 
road-making, and I am bound to admit that you saved 
my life. That’s neither here nor there. I asked about 
Monty and you told me some plausible tale. I went 
to the place you spoke of—to find him of course 
spirited away. We have met again in England, 
Scarlett Trent, and I have asked once more for Monty. 
Once more I am met with evasions. This morning I 
granted you a week—now I take back my word. I 
am going to make public what I know to-morrow 
morning.” 

“ Since this morning, then,” Trent said, “ your ill- 
will toward me has increased.” 

“ Quite true,” Francis answered. “We are playing 
with the cards upon the table, so I will be frank with 



A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 297 


you. What you told me about your intentions towards 
Miss Wendermott makes me determined to strike at 
once! ” 

“ You yourself, I fancy,” Trent said quietly, “ ad¬ 
mired her ? ” 

“ More than any woman I have ever met,” Francis 
answered promptly, “ and I consider your attitude 
towards her grossly presumptuous.” 

Trent stood quite still for a moment—then he un¬ 
locked the door. 

“ You had better go, Francis,” he said quietly. “ I 
have a defence prepared but I will reserve it. And 
listen, when I locked that door it was with a purpose. 
I had no mind to let you leave as you are leaving. 
Never mind. You can go—only be quick.” 

Francis paused upon the threshold. “ You under¬ 
stand,” he said significantly. 

“ I understand,” Trent answered. 

♦ * * * * 

An hour passed, and Trent still remained in the 
chair before his writing-table, his head upon his hand, 
his eyes fixed upon vacancy. Afterwards he always 
thought of that hour as one of the bitterest of his 
life. A strong and self-reliant man, he had all his 
life ignored companionship, had been well content to 
live without friends, self-contained and self-sufficient. 
To-night the spectre of a great loneliness sat silently 
by his side! His heart was sore, his pride had been 
bitterly touched, the desire and the whole fabric of his 
life was in imminent and serious danger. 




298 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


The man who had left him was an enemy and a 
prejudiced man, but Trent knew that he was honest. 
He was the first human being to whom he had ever 
betrayed the solitary ambition of his life, and his scorn¬ 
ful words seemed still to bite the air. If—he was 

right! Why not? Trent looked with keen, merciless 
eyes through his past, and saw never a thing there to 
make him glad. He had started life a workman, with 
a few ambitions all of a material nature—he had lived 
the life of a cold, scheming money-getter, absolutely 
selfish, negatively moral, doing little evil perhaps, but 
less good. There was nothing in his life to make him 
worthy of a woman’s love, most surely there was 
nothing which could ever make it possible that such a 
woman as Ernestine Wendermott should ever care for 
him. All the wealth of Africa could never make him 
anything different from what he was. And yet, as he 
sat and realised this, he knew that he was writing 
down his life a failure. For, beside his desire for her, 
there were no other things he cared for in life. 
Already he was weary of financial warfare—the City 
life had palled upon him. He looked around the 
magnificent room in the mansion which his agents had 
bought and furnished for him. He looked at the pile 
of letters waiting for him upon his desk, little square 
envelopes many of them, but all telling the same tale, 
all tributes to his great success, and the mockery of it 
all smote hard upon the walls of his fortitude. Lower 
and lower his head drooped until it was buried in his 
folded arms—and the hour which followed he always 
reckoned the bitterest of his life. 




CHAPTER XL 


A LITTLE earlier than usual next morning Trent 
was at his office in the City, prepared for the 
worst, and in less than half an hour he found himself 
face to face with one of those crises known to most 
great financiers at some time or other during their lives. 
His credit was not actually assailed, but it was sus¬ 
pended. The general public did not understand the 
situation, even those who were in a measure behind the 
scenes found it hard to believe that the attack upon the 
Bekwando Gold and Land shares was purely a personal 
one. For it was Da Souza who had fired the train, who 
had flung his large holding of shares upon the market, 
and, finding them promptly taken up, had gone about 
with many pious exclamations of thankfulness and 
sinister remarks. Many smaller holders followed suit, 
and yet never for a moment did the market waver. 
Gradually it leaked out that Scarlett Trent was the 
buyer, and public interest leaped up at once. Would 
Trent be able to face settling-day without putting 
his vast holdings upon the market ? If so the bulls 
were going to have the worst knock they had had 





300 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


for years—and yet—and yet—the murmur went round 
from friend to friend—“ Sell your Bekwandos.” 

At midday there came an urgent message from Trent’s 
bankers, and as he read it he cursed. It was short but 
eloquent. 

‘‘Dear Sir, —We notice that your account to-day 
stands £119,000 overdrawn, against which we hold as 
collateral security shares in the Bekwando Land Com¬ 
pany to the value of £150,000. As we have received 
certain very disquieting information concerning the 
value of these shares, we must ask you to adjust the 
account before closing hours to-day, or we shall be com¬ 
pelled to place the shares upon the market. 

“ Yours truly, 

“ A. Sinclair, General Manager 

Trent tore the letter into atoms, but he never quailed. 
Telegraph and telephone worked his will, he saw all 
callers, a cigar in his mouth and flower in his button¬ 
hole, perfectly at his ease, sanguine and confident. A 
few minutes before closing time he strolled into the 
bank and no one noticed a great bead of perspiration 
which stood out upon his forehead. He made out a 
credit slip for £119,000, and, passing it across the counter 
with a roll of notes and cheques, asked for his shares. 

They sent for the manager. Trent was ushered with 
much ceremony into his private room. The manager 
was flushed and nervous. 

“ I am afraid you must have misunderstood my note, 
Mr. Trent,” he stammered. But Trent, remembering 



A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 301 


all that he had gone through to raise the money, stopped 
him short. 

“ This is not a friendly call, Mr. Sinclair,” he said, 
“ but simply a matter of business. I wish to clear my 
account with you to the last halfpenny, and I will take 
my shares away with me. I have paid in the amount 
I owe. Let one of your clerks make out the interest 
account.” 

The manager rang the bell for the key of the security 
safe. He opened it and took out the shares with fingers 
which trembled a good deal. 

“ Did I understand you, Mr. Trent, that you desired 
to absolutely close the account ? ” he asked. 

“Most decidedly,” Trent answered. 

“We shall be very sorry to lose you.” 

“ The sorrow will be all on your side, then,” Trent 
answered grimly. “ You have done your best to ruin 
me, you and that blackguard Da Souza, who brought 
me here. If you had succeeded in lumping those 
shares upon the market to-day or to-morrow, you know 
very well what the result would have been. I don’t 
know whose game you have been playing, but I can 
guess! ” 

“ I can assure you, Mr. Trent,” the manager declared 
in his suavest and most professional manner, “ that you 
are acting under a complete misapprehension. I will 
admit that our notice was a little short. Suppose we 
withdraw it altogether, eh ? I am quite satisfied. We 
will put back the shares in the safe and you shall keep 
your money.” 

“ No, I’m d-d if you do! ” Trent answered bluntly. 

“ You’ve had your money and I’ll have the shares. I 





302 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


don’t leave this bank without them, and I’ll be shot if 
ever I enter it again.” 

So Trent, with his back against the wall and not a 
friend to help him, faced for twenty-four hours the 
most powerful bull syndicate which had ever been 
formed against a single Company. Inquiries as to his 
right of title had poured in upon him, and to all of them 
he had returned the most absolute and final assurances. 
Yet he knew when closing-time came, that he had 
exhausted every farthing he possessed in the world—it 
seemed hopeless to imagine that he could survive 
another day. But with the morning came a booming 
cable from Bekwando. There had been a great find of 
gold before ever a shaft had been sunk; an expert, from 
whom as yet nothing had been heard, wired an excited 
and wonderful report. Then the men who had held on 
to their Bekwandos rustled their morning papers and 
walked smiling to their offices. Prices leaped up. 
Trent’s directors ceased to worry him and wired invita¬ 
tions to luncheon at the West End. The bulls were 
the sport of everybody. When closing-time came 
Trent had made £100,000, and was looked upon every¬ 
where as one of the rocks of finance. 

Only then he began to realise what the strain had 
been to him. His hard, impassive look had never 
altered, he had been seen everywhere in his accustomed 
City haunts, his hat a little better brushed than usual, 
his clothes a little more carefully put on, his buttonhole 
more obvious and his laugh readier. No one guessed 
the agony through which he had passed, no one knew 
that he had spent the night at a little inn twelve miles 
away, to which he had walked after nine o’clock at 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 303 


night. He had not a single confidant, even his cashier 
had no idea whence came the large sums of money 
which he had paid away right and left. But when it 
was all over he left the City, and, leaning back in the 
comer of his little brougham, was driven away to Pont 
Street. Here he locked himself in his room, took off 
his coat and threw himself upon a sofa with a big cigar 
between his teeth. 

“ If you let any one in to see me, Miles,” he told the 
footman, “ I’ll kick you out of the house.” So, though 
the bell rang often, he remained alone. But as he lay 
there with half-closed eyes living again through the 
tortures of the last few hours, he heard a voice that 
startled him. It was surely hers—already ! He sprang 
up and opened the door. Ernestine and Captain 
Francis were in the hall. 

He motioned them to follow him into the room. 
Ernestine was flushed and her eyes were very bright. 
She threw up her veil and faced him haughtily. 

“ Where is he ? ” she asked. “ I know everything. 
I insist upon seeing him at once.” 

“ That,” he said coolly, “ will depend upon whether 
he is fit to see you! ” 

He rang the bell. 

“ Tell Miss Fullagher to step this way a moment,” 
he ordered. 

“ He is in this house, then,” she cried. He took no 
notice. In a moment a young woman dressed in the 
uniform of one of the principal hospitals entered. 

“ Miss Fullagher,” he asked, “ how is the patient? ” 

“ We’ve had a lot of trouble with him, sir,” she said 
significantly. “ He was terrible all last night, and he’s 





304 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


very weak this morning. Is this the young lady, 
sir ? ” 

“ This is the young lady who I told you would want 
to see him when you thought it advisable.” 

The nurse looked doubtful. “ Sir Henry is upstairs, 
sir,” she said. “ I had better ask his advice.” 

Trent nodded and she withdrew. The three were 
left alone, Ernestine and Francis remained apart as 
though by design. Trent was silent. 

She returned in a moment or two. 

“ Sir Henry has not quite finished his examination, 
sir,” she announced. “ The young lady can come up 
in half an hour.” 

Again they were left alone. Then Trent crossed the 
room and stood between them and the door. 

“ Before you see your father, Miss Wendermott,” he 
said, “ I have an explanation to make to you! ” 


CHAPTEE XLI 


S HE looked at him calmly, but in her set, white face 
he seemed to read already his sentence! 

“ Do you think it worth while, Mr. Trent ? There 
is so much, as you put it, to be explained, that the task, 
even to a man of your versatility, seems hopeless! ” 

“ I shall not trouble you long,” he said. “ At least 
one man’s word should be as good as another’s—and 
you have listened to what my enemy ”—he motioned 
towards Francis—“has to say.” 

Francis shrugged his shoulders. 

“ I can assure you,” he interrupted, “ that I have no 
feeling of enmity towards you in the slightest. My 
opinion you know. I have never troubled to conceal 
it. But I deny that I am prejudiced by any personal 
feeling.” 

Trent ignored his speech. 

“ What I have to say to you,” he continued address¬ 
ing Ernestine, “ I want to say before you see your 
father. I won’t take up your time. I won’t waste 
words. I take you back ten years to when I met him 
at Attra and we became partners in a certain enterprise. 
Your father at that time was a harmless wreck of a man, 
20 306 




306 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


who was fast killing himself with brandy. He had some 
money, I had none. With it we bought the necessary 
outfit and presents for my enterprise and started for 
Bekwando. The whole of the work fell to my share, 
and with great trouble I succeeded in obtaining the con¬ 
cessions we were working for. Your father spent all 
his time drinking, and playing cards, when I would 
play with him. The agreement as to the sharing of 
the profits was drawm up, it is true, by me, but at that 
time he made no word of complaint. I had no rela¬ 
tions, he described himself as cut off wholly from his. 
It was here Francis first came on the scene. He found 
your father half drunk, and when he read the agree¬ 
ment it was plain what he thought. He thought 
that I was letting your father kill himself that the 
whole thing might be mine. He has probably told you 
so. I deny it. I did all I could to keep him sober! 

“ On our homeward way your father was ill and our 
bearers deserted us. We were pursued by the natives, 
who repented their concession, and I had to fight them 
more than once, half a dozen strong, with your father 
unconscious at my feet. It is true that I left him in 
the bush, but it was at his bidding and I believed him 
dying. It was my only chance and I took it. I escaped 
and reached Attra. Then, to raise money to reach 
England, I had to borrow from a man named Da Souza, 
and afterwards, in London, to start the Company, I had 
to make him my partner in the profits of the conces¬ 
sion. One day I quarrelled with him—it was just at 
the time I met you—and then, for the first time, I heard 
of your father’s being alive. I went out to Africa to 
bring him back and Da Souza followed me in abject 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 307 


fear, for as my partner he lost half if your father’s 
claim was good. I found your father infirm and only 
half sane. I did all I could for him whilst I worked in 
the interior, and meant to bring him back to England 
with me when I came. Unfortunately he recovered a 
little and suddenly seized upon the idea of visiting Eng¬ 
land. He left before me and fell into the hands of Da 
Souza, who had the best possible reasons in the world 
for keeping him in the background. I rescued him 
from them in time to save him from death and brought 
him to my own house, sent for doctors and nurses, and, 
when he was fit for you to see, I should have sent for 
you. I did not, I admit, make any public declaration 
of his existence, for the simple reason that it would 
have crippled our Company, and there are the interests 
of the shareholders to be considered, but I executed and 
signed a deed of partnership days ago which makes 
him an equal sharer in every penny I possess. Now 
this is the truth, Miss Wendermott, and if it is not a 
story I am particularly proud of, I don’t very well see 
what else I could have done. It is my story and it is a 
true one. Will you believe it or will you take his word 
against mine ? ” 

She would have spoken, but Francis held up his 
hand. 

“ My story,” he said coolly, “ has been told behind 
your back. It is only fair to repeat it to your face. I 
have told Miss Wendermott this—that I met you first 
in the village of Bekwando with a concession in your 
hand made out to you and her father jointly, with the 
curious proviso that in the event of the death of one 
the other was his heir. I pointed out to Miss Wender- 






308 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


mott that you were in the prime of life and in magnifi¬ 
cent condition, while her father was already on the 
threshold of the grave and drinking himself into a 
fever in a squalid hut in a village of swamps. I told 
her that I suspected foul play, that I followed you both 
and found her father left to the tender mercies of the 
savages, deserted by you in the bush. I told her that 
many months afterwards he disappeared, simultaneously 
with your arrival in the country, that a day or two ago 
you swore to me you had no idea where he was. That 
has been my story, Trent, let Miss Wendermott choose 
between them.” 

“ I am content/' Trent cried fiercely. jl Your story 
is true enough, but it is cunningly linked together. 
You have done your worst. Choose ! ” 

For ever afterwards he was glad of that single look 
of reproach which seemed to escape her unwittingly as 
her eyes met his. But she turned away and his heart 
was like a stone. 

“ You have deceived me, Mr. Trent. 1 am very 
sorry, and very disappointed.” 

“ And you,” he cried passionately, “ are you yourself 
so blameless? Were you altogether deceived by your 
relations, or had you never a suspicion that your father 
might still be alive? You had my message through 
Mr. Cuthbert; I met you day by day after you knew 
that I had been your father’s partner, and never once 
did you give yourself away ! Were you tarred with the 
same brush as those canting snobs who doomed a poor 
old man to a living death? Doesn’t it look like it? 
What am I to think of you?” 

“ Your judgment, Mr. Trent,” she answered quietly, 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 309 


“ is of no importance to me ! It does not interest me 
in any way. But I will tell you this. If I did not dis¬ 
close myself, it was because I distrusted you. I wanted 
to know the truth, and I set myself to find it out.” 

“Your friendship was a lie, then ! ” he cried, with 
flashing eyes. “ To you I was nothing but a suspected 
man to be spied upon and betrayed.” 

She faltered and did not answer him. Outside the 
nurse was knocking at the door. Trent waved them 
away with an imperious gesture. 

“ Be off,” he cried, “ both of you! You can do your 
worst! I thank Heaven that I am not of your class, 
whose men have flints for hearts and whose women 
can lie like angels.” 

They left him alone, and Trent, with a groan, 
plucked from his heart the one strong, sweet hope 
which had changed his life so wonderfully. Upstairs, 
Monty was sobbing, with his little girl’s arms about 
him. 






CHAPTEB XLII 


W ITH the darkness had come a wind from the sea, 
and the boy crept outside in his flannels and 
planter’s hat and threw himself down in a cane chair 
with a little murmur of relief. Below him burned the 
white lights of the town, a little noisier than usual 
to-night, for out in the bay a steamer was lying-co, 
and there had been a few passengers and cargo to land. 
The boy had had a hard day’s work, or he would ha /e 
been in the town himself to watch for arrivals anil 
wait for the mail. He closed his eyes, half asleep, j 
for the sun had been hot and the murmurs of the sea 
below was almost like a lullaby. As he lay there a 
man’s voice from the path reached him. He sprang 
up, listening intently. It must have been fancy—and 
yet! He leaned over the wooden balcony. The 
figure of a man loomed out through the darkness, 
came nearer, became distinct. Fred recognised him 
with a glad shout. 

“ Trent! ” he cried. “ Scarlett Trent, by all that’s 
amazing! ” 

Trent held out his hand quickly. Somehow the 






A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 311 


glad young voice, quivering with excitement, touched 
his heart in an unexpected and unusual manner. It 
was pleasant to be welcomed like this—to feel that 
one person in the world at least was glad of his 
coming. For Trent was a sorely stricken man and 
the flavour of life had gone from him. Many a time 
he had looked over the steamer’s side during that long, 
lonely voyage and gazed almost wistfully into the sea, 
in whose embrace was rest. It seemed to him that he 
had been a gambler playing for great stakes, and the 
turn of the wheel had gone against him. 

“ Fred! ” 

They stood with hands locked together, the boy 
breathless with surprise. Then he saw that some¬ 
thing was wrong. 

“ What is it, Trent ? ” he asked quickly. “ Have 
we gone smash after all, or have you been ill ? ” 

Trent shook his head and smiled gravely. 

“ Neither,” he said. “The Company is booming, I 
believe. Civilised ways didn’t agree with me, I’m 
'afraid. That’s all! I’ve come back to have a month 
or two’s hard work—the best physic in the world.” 

“ I am delighted to see you,” Fred said heartily. 
“ Everything’s going Al here, and they’ve built me 
this little bungalow, only got in it last week—stunning, 
isn’t it? But—just fancy your being here again so 
soon ! Are your traps coming up ? ” 

“ I haven’t many,” Trent answered. “ They’re on 
the way. Have you got room for me?” 

“Room for you!” the boy repeated scornfully. 

“ Why, I’m all alone here. It’s the only thing against 
the place, being a bit lonely. Room for you! I 




312 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


should think there is ! Here, Dick ! Dinner at once, 
and some wine ! ” 

Trent was taken to see his room, the boy talking all 
the time, and later on dinner was served and the boy 
did the honours, chaffing and talking lightly. But 
later on when they sat outside, smoking furiously to 
keep off the mosquitoes and watching the fireflies dart 
in and out amongst the trees, the boy was silent. 
Then he leaned over and laid his hand on Trent’s arm. 

“ Tell me all about it—do,” he begged. 

Trent was startled, touched, and suddenly filled 
with a desire for sympathy such as he had never 
before in his life experienced. He hesitated, but it 
was only for a moment. 

“ I never thought to tell any one,” he said slowly, 
“ I think I’d like to ! ” 

And he did. He told his whole story. He did not 
spare himself. He spoke of the days of his earlier 
partnership with Monty, and he admitted the apparent 
brutality of his treatment of him on more than one 
occasion. He spoke of Ernestine too—of his strange 
fancy for the photograph of Monty’s little girl, a fancy 
which later on when he met her became almost imme¬ 
diately the dominant passion of his life. Then he 
spoke of the coming of Francis, of the awakening of 
Ernestine’s suspicions, and of that desperate moment 
when he risked everything on her faith in him—and 
lost. There was little else to tell and afterwards there 
was a silence. But presently the boy’s hand fell upon 
his arm almost caressingly and he leaned over through 
the darkness. 

“Women are such idiots,” the boy declared, with 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


313 


all the vigour and certainty of long experience. “ If 
only Aunt Ernestine had known you half as well as I 
do, she would have been quite content to have trusted 
you and to have believed that what you did was for 
the best. But I say, Trent, you ought to have waited 
for it. After she had seen her father and talked with 
him she must have understood you better. I shall 
write to her.” 

But Trent shook his head. 

“No,” he said sternly, “it is too late now. That 
moment taught me all I wanted to know. It was her 
love I wanted, Fred, and—that—no use hoping for 
that, or she would have trusted me. After all I was 
half a madman ever to have expected it—a rough, 
coarse chap like me, with only a smattering of polite 
ways ! It was madness ! Some day I shall get over 
it! We’ll chuck work for a bit, soon, Fred, and go 
for some lions. That’ll give us something to think 
about at any rate.” 

+ • • • • 

But the lions which Trent might have shot lived in 
peace, for on the morrow he was restless and ill, and 
within a week the deadly fever of the place had him 
in its clutches. The boy nursed him and the German 
doctor came up from Attra and, when he learnt who 
his patient was, took up his quarters in the place. 
But for all his care and the boy’s nursing things went 
badly with Scarlett Trent. 

To him ended for a while all measure of days—time 
became one long night, full of strange, tormenting 
21 



314 A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 


flashes of thought, passing like red fire before his 
burning eyes. Sometimes it was Monty crying to him 
from the bush, sometimes the yelling of those savages 
at Bekwando seemed to fill the air, sometimes 
Ernestine was there, listening to his passionate 
pleading with cold, set face. In the dead of night he 
saw her and the still silence was broken by his hoarse, 
passionate cries, which they strove in vain to check. 
And when at last he lay white and still with ex¬ 
haustion, the doctor looked at the boy and softly 
shook his head. He had very little hope. 

Trent grew worse. In those rare flashes of semi¬ 
consciousness which sometimes come to the fever- 
stricken, he reckoned himself a dying man and 
contemplated the end of all things without enthusiasm 
and without regret. The one and only failure of his 
life had eaten like canker into his heart. It was death 
he craved for in the hot, burning nights, and death 
came and sat, a grisly shadow, at his pillow. The 
doctor and the boy did their best, but it was not they 
who saved him. 

There came a night when he raved, and the sound 
of a woman’s name rang out from the open windows 
of the little bungalow, rang out through the drawn 
mosquito netting amongst the palm-trees, across the 
surf-topped sea to the great steamer which lay in the 
bay. Perhaps she heard it—perhaps after all it was a 
fancy. Only, in the midst of his fever, a hand as soft 
as velvet and as cool as the night sea-wind touched 
his forehead, and a voice sounded in his ears so 
sweetly that the blood burned no longer in his veins, 
so sweetly that he lay back upon his pillow like a man 


A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY 315 


under the influence of a strong narcotic and slept. 
Then the doctor smiled and the boy sobbed. 

* * * * * 

“ I came,” she said softly, “ because it was the only 
atonement I could make. I ought to have trusted 
you. Do you know, even my father told me that.” 

“ I have made mistakes,” he said, “ and of course 
behaved badly to him.” 

“ Now that everything has been explained,” she 
said, “ I scarcely see what else you could have done. 
At least you saved him from Da Souza when his death 
would have made you a freer man. He is looking 
forward to seeing you, you must make haste and get 
strong.” 

“ For his sake,” he murmured. 

She leaned over and caressed him lightly. “ For 
mine, dear.” 


THE END. 





























































































































































































































































































































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